


The Sleeping Dead

by Ireg



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery, Post-Game, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 58,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireg/pseuds/Ireg
Summary: Three groups of survivors wake from three killing games- and consequently- three simulations. With their sleeping friend's lives on the line, they are forced to play another game on Monokuma's behalf- This time, one for life. The three scarred and broken groups of people have to somehow vote for which of their friends wakes up from an illusory death first, and have to live not only with two other groups of survivors with completely different experiences, but themselves.A fic centered around dealing with the aftermath of the killing games in a world where they were staged, and each group of survivors working with one another as best they can despite being very close to turning on one another. Introduction is slow-going because I cant write without going into excruciating detail. Character-heavy, with minor plot.





	1. Prologue part 1: Floating quietly on an empty lake

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for taking interest in my fic. Forewarning, my writing style is a bit heavy and i'm honestly not too happy with how I wrote this, so i'm very open to criticism. I just cant help but feeling that this isn't as good as anything i've written previously, so i'd appreciate it if you could offer any insight into making it better. I love comments of any kind, though- So if you're reading, please leave a comment!
> 
> Like I said in the summary, the introduction is going to be a bit slow-going, sorry! I really want to get this over with so I can get on to what I really want to write (The more day-to day interactions with each of the characters, and eventually, the votes)
> 
> I'm not going to be using Japanese naming conventions, mostly because I played the games in the English localization where they weren't used and although I know they are the most correct to use here, its really awkward for me to write and i'm worried i'll mess them up. Furthermore, I really don't know much about Japanese culture in general so I probably wont be referencing it often. 
> 
> See you on the other side!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko wakes up.

I’ve decided- Waking into a new reality is a profoundly strange thing.

When it happens, When your mind finally comes to that sinking realization, that yes: I’ve been living a lie…. It brings all of your experiences into a cloud of judgment, prodding at every sensation you’ve felt and analyzing them, trying to pick apart fiction from reality. The sensation is both incredibly depressing, and yet- Hopeful. The true senses of reality seem to have a wholeness to them that I can’t quite put my finger on, other than that they are more… Complete than their imitators. My mind is anxious to pick apart every tiny moment in the simulation and point out the truth behind it all.

Or maybe that’s just me?

My name is Kyoko Kirigiri- Although, I don’t really know for sure anymore. And today, I woke from my dream of a lie.

* * *

 

The feelings rising within me as I stepped out into the welcoming light of a ruined world were like blossoming petals of an orchid, unfurling and reaching out to the sun. A stirring, stimulating sensation of distilled hope, and acceptance for the unknown future. I would face hardship, I knew: But with these eccentric personalities by my side, I felt I could conquer anything- Even this world wallowing in despair.

For just a moment, I let myself bask in the warmth of a new horizon, my eyes adjusting to the brilliance of the hope ahead of us.

And then, reality snapped, torn into two halves left with jagged edges, as if the whole world was a sheet of paper ripped down the middle. The two halves fell away, twirling with a chaotic grace into the void, and I was left with nothing, not even… Nothing.

Time between then and my next breath in reality was an odd gap, like a part of the world had been removed and the rest of existence was stitched together to mend it. Unlike sleep, my mind had not registered any time passing while I was unconscious: just two ends of my memory closed together, losing the space between them forever.

The next few moments of real consciousness were a dull awakening, individual senses trickling into my awareness like tiny drops condensating inside me; it was totally unlike drifting out of sleep, where there is a hazy, poorly drawn line between unconsciousness and consciousness: where you could never remember the exact moment you slipped between the two. Instead, I still remember how each part of me seemed to ease to life: I felt the faint tingling I always did in my hands bleed into reality- like a tiny ball erratically bouncing inside them-, then the wholly empty black of non existence faded into the real darkness residing behind my closed eyelids. Each sense and function followed, including my mind: which emerged from the void with questions already squirming within it, wriggling like electric worms.

 

_What was that?_

An aberrant sleep, evidently: more like a machine being booted than a person waking.

 

_Why?_

Because I was never really asleep.

 

The answer floated soundlessly in my thoughts for a few moments, my attention on it focusing and unfocusing as the edges of it became blurry and indistinct, then sharp and realized again. I was surprised that I came back with one so quickly, and I… Wasn’t entirely sure where the answer came from. It had just… Bloomed into my reality, like each individual sense just had.

And those senses seemed somehow more… Thorough than I ever remembered. The snug fitting of my gloves to my pitted scars, holding tight like a second skin; the rich delicacy of the black against my eyes, like velvety satin in visual form. It all felt fulfilling, like my capacity for perception had been turned a few notches higher.

 

_How could something so absolute, like a sense, be so different?_

Because this world is different.

 

While the previous answer had piqued my curiosity and set my mental train chugging along its weblike, branching tracks, this conclusion set a slight panic rising off in my thoughts: ascending to the roof of my mental world like a bundle of red balloons. It had seemed like such a natural answer, so natural that I had reached it without even debating it: it was like the most basic math problems, or logical deductions. But now that I had the truth I myself had come upon, resting in my lap… I was confused, and ultimately, scared by it.

 

_How did I know?_

Some part of me must already know.

 

_What does it even mean?_

Maybe the world before was fake…. Maybe i’ve even crossed the boundaries of reality itself.

 

_That can’t be right._

Right. I can be wrong, after all. But am I?

 

I dismissed the troubling answer as the last murmurings of sleep clinging to me, even if my mind felt like it had been awake for hours; but the panic lingered, staining the background of my thoughts. I ignored it best as I could, and let the tangy tenacity of my questions overwhelm me.

 

_Where am I?_

Let’s... see.

 

Opening my eyes and absorbing reality around me was just as oddly wondrous as my other senses, despite the regularity of it all; Stark whites oozed into my sight like gooey white chocolate, somehow delectable even if it began reminding me of the sickening cleanliness of a hospital. The entire room was a sanitized pearl: I saw the even surface of the painted ceiling, fitting above plaster walls only blemished by thick bands of cables running along them, that were also drenched pure white. I’d have thought it was heaven for a few moments, if I believed in the place.

But no, this was a place at least trying to imitate a hospital: with the hyper-sanitized atmosphere and the pungent sharpness of disinfectant and latex. It was an atmosphere I knew well, and although the sheer purity of these places seemed so harsh that they would try and scrub the sins from my conscience, the people I saw there because of work brought a layer of grime and despair that completely neutralized it. People whose anger flared from them like a roaring flame, consuming what was left of their ruined and scarred bodies. People whose sadness wallowed everything in a swamp of inaction, making every movement around them difficult. And then… Most noteworthy to me were the people whose emptiness exuded from them like coiling mist from a murky lake: Whose eyes were a black ouroborus with a center filled with a profound nothingness, whose words rung hollow, and movements were made without any effort or energy behind them. Those people belonged in a morgue, rather than a hospital: they were alive, but only in the technical sense, just waiting for death to take them with a gentle kiss. I paid special attention to those people, because I always felt like I wasn’t too far from becoming one of them.

Pushing that memory aside for now, I shifted my attention from the outlines of the room to the- Pod I was resting in.

I had expected a hospital bed, clean and slightly scratchy sheets drifting atop me and a hospital gown hanging limply off me: I had woken to that sudden shift in atmosphere many times before, after situations where adrenaline tingled in my veins like a spark was loose in them, darting from limb to limb and thought to thought. My heart would be pounding in my chest, my focused gaze cutting straight ahead, not letting the fear distort my face. And then… A sudden burst of pain, and an encroaching veil of darkness.

But, no: instead, I was laid in a slightly claustrophobic machine of sorts, unnervingly warm metal cradling my body like cupped hands. The murmur and whirl of the machine was distant ambience, so soft it blended with my cacophony of thought, putting a background to my ramblings.

An intrusive presence flowed through my body, a subtle wave of energy that began in my toes and fingers, before inching through my veins and under my skin with pulses of life. The feeling was unnerving, although not entirely discomforting. Actually, it seemed almost regenerative: it flowed past sharp aches and chills that seemed to fizzle within my arms, and stinging hunger pains that lurched within my stomach, quieting them like a mother soothing a child to sleep.

More information. More questions, more deductions. This was the way of life.

 

_Why am I here?_

I was probably injured. That would explain the chills, and the hunger, and the decor… And… Possibly the pod. Hospital methods could have changed in those school memories that were dropped into a narrow abyss.

 

_Who would have taken me into medical care?_

Perhaps some remnant of society. Perhaps the remnants of Junko’s cult. Or, maybe... I awoke from a long dream.

 

_That’s wrong._

Are you ignoring another possibility?

 

_I’m not ignoring anything credible. I already discounted such a foolish conclusion._

By pushing it away? Do you even have any evidence?

 

_How can I have evidence for something that invalidates everything else?_

You’ve already found some. Put the pieces together, Kyoko. It’s in your hand- All you need to do is set it into place.

 

_No._

When you find the most damning evidence, will you believe it? Will you face the truth?

 

~~_….._ ~~

~~Why are you so afraid of losing what’s left of your past?~~

 

Sighing, I jostled the loose thoughts out of my head, pushing myself up and over the lip of the pod- only for a sharp jolt of pain to course through my body. I sucked in a sharp breath, biting my lip to prevent myself from screaming out and doing my best to stabilize my wobbly legs as the world rocked around me like I was on a stormy sea. An exhaustion I was completely unaware of had instantly blanketed my body, and black spots began to flare on my vision like a splattering of ink across a page.

Well, there was confirmation about my theory about the pod- Although I wasn’t expecting it to be quite this severe. It felt as if I hadn’t even used my legs in months, like they were small twigs ready to snap under the pressure. Stabilizing myself on the wall, I glanced around to see what I couldn’t before.

The room was relatively tiny; only enough space for the pod itself and a small space around it to squeeze through and access it. It reminded me of a solitary confinement cell, the type I had seen many times over my career- The kind you always hoped to be looking into, and not out of. The kind designed specifically to slowly squeeze resolve out of the human spirit by isolation; the door only added to this feeling: it was a thick metal sheet secured by huge hinges onto the doorway, with a small sparkling square of glass that was no doubt bulletproof.

That was where the analogy stopped, however. Even if it was small enough to warrant claustrophobia, it seemed not suited for living: wires snaked across every inch of the tiled floor, like writhing, living roots from the pod, and a large monitor rested above the door, tilted downwards at me. Although the door seemed to have no visible handle or doorknob, a small touchscreen next to it was probably related.

The entire place had an aura of affluence to it, with extremely sophisticated technology making up the pod- wires, tubes, blinking lights and screens all making the thing look like a frankenstein of metal and silicon- and the rest of the room, like the monitor and touchpad. This immediately bothered me…

 

_How would a post-apocalyptic government be able to cobble this together?_

Perhaps this is ultimate despair’s doing. If Junko was able to leech of the last efforts of hope’s peak, she might have had major funding from somewhere else.

 

_That is a definite possibility._

Even so, i’d wager against it. Why would they want me alive?

 

_So they can make my death all the more delicious?_

...Fair point. Still, wouldn't something have…

 

With a tiny click, the monitor’s dead face flared to life, bringing me face to face with my monochrome tormentor; he was grinning as always ,face split down laterally: just ready to spout some nonsense from his cartoony maw of lies.

“Goooooooood morning Kyoko! Did you have a pleasant sleep? Any good dreeeeaaaams? Did you dream of your darling hope, embracing you….? Oooh… I’m getting all hot and bothered by it already!” He screeched out in his grating tone, plaguing my already exhausted mind with a headache splitting it in half

As the game went on, Junko got more and more ammo to use against me; when it began, I was nearly impervious to any manipulation: partially because of my ability to not act on my emotions, but mostly because the simple lack of weak points for someone to target. Although there was a burning desire within me eating me alive to know my past and why… Why I was who I was, so long as I didn’t remember, Junko couldn’t use my past as a motive or a weapon: my first motive was simply the promise of my memories back if I killed, not mentions of my grandfather which would have been much more effective if I actually had my memories. And even if I have to admit that it was tempting, I never thoroughly considered it, as I might have if it were a more personal motive.

But as my memories slowly rose to the surface like bubbles from the depths of my subconscious and as, despite my chagrin, I began forming emotional bonds with my classmates, I became profoundly exposed, as if there was a jagged gash in my armor. Junko made it her goal to exploit that to the best of her ability, pestering me endlessly and assaulting me with insults about anything she could get her dainty little hands on: my career, family, tragedies, childhood, friends…

I think I was the subject of the most verbal abuse out of everyone, and quite ironically, it’s probably because I was the most withdrawn and emotionally defensive person: I don’t think Junko could resist trying to crack my shell. When I was alone, she was there through her demented mascot, like a ghost of my past. When I was lying awake at night, investigating, relaxing (Or, as close to it as I got) she would always be there.

And I hate to admit it, but sometimes she got to me, it only on a minute level: she found an opening to plunge her sword in deep. Even if it was only an angry shout, or a clenching of my fists, I still knew I had failed at keeping myself neutral, and that knowledge and disappointment in my failure cut me far deeper than anything she said in and of itself.

And now, this Junko imposter seemed intent to keep up the pressure: at least my theory had been practically proven, and my more wild speculation been… Disproven. Still, though, it meant I had to endure even more mental strain, and based on my deduction, the others are probably here, too. And even if I could take the weight of the world on my mind in stress, they cannot, and that’s a huge liability.

A faint hint of red ran to my cheeks. “Cut the comedy routine and just get to the point. What’s the death game this time? I’m telling you, it’s pointless. Junko lost.” I spat out in the most seething tone I could while still retaining my composure.

“Oh hoh hoh hoh! So eager to change the subject, eh, missy? Well, whatever. I won’t press you about it. We’ve got more important things to talk about… And I wouldn’t want this to be a repeat of when I talked to Aoi a little bit ago! I swear, she is one stubborn mule. Just back and forth and back and forth on eveerrrrything. Gosh, you’d think she was a political candidate for how much she pointlessly argued!”

“But that’s neither here nor there. I just want to comment on your baseless slander! Another killing game? I’m a bear, not a one trick pony! I can do plenty of other things besides killing games! Besides, they sort of get predictable after a while; you know what they say, if you’ve seen ten killing games, you’ve seen them all. ...Wait, was it ten, or eight…”

“Eh, I lost count. Bears can't count anyways, so it's good.”

Talking to Monokuma was always difficult, partially because of the sheer comical unpredictability that sparked off every word he said- A trait the character most likely received from his creator, like some demented heredity. However, at least Junko was readable: she didn’t make much effort to hide her emotions, and, as ridiculous as they were, they were still present. Monokuma, however, stopped me from ever being able to get a solid tell on the mastermind’s true emotions since every emotion displayed was just another pull by Junko on the puppet’s strings, leaving a barrier between myself and the true culprit.

This was no different. It was difficult to separate the serious side of his banter from the meaningless comedy, since even the rather gruesome side of the game was still slathered in a heavy dosage of ironic wit and parody; he practically spat on the graves of the deceased, then stapled their corpse to a wall for everyone to see. I have to admit, in terms of psychological warfare, it was particularly effective- especially sense it managed to break even me, at times.

“Stop spouting nonsense. If myself and the others are here- as you’ve just confirmed- then there would be few other reasonable uses for having us here, unless you plan to simply execute us on the spot.” I retorted, locking my eyes squarely with his in a steadfast glare… Although I did feel a bit foolish, staring at the beady eyes of a plushie, which were actually cameras, through a monitor.

“No, no no no no! Death… Is boring to me now. Been there, done that. Instead, i’ve decided i’m going to go ahead and play god for a little bit and resurrect the dead. That sounds fun, right?”

I tried my best to keep my jaw from hanging wide open in pure disbelief at the new heights of unbelievable lies Monokuma’s new operator had reached. “Do you really expect anyone to believe that?”

“Oh? Well, no, not really. Although, I gotta tell you I had some students fall for it in the last killing game. O’course, they never got far enough into the whole zombie schbang to actually prove me wrong, whole deal with seesaws and all that, but I swear! This isn’t like that!”

My inquisitive machine of a mind latched onto a few particular words from that string of nonsensical conjecture. _“Last killing game?”_

 

_Were there more survivors than just us?_

It’s possible, but ultimate despair would have to had herded them together individually after the tragedy. Besides, Junko stressed very heavily the importance of our killing game as a last stand for hope. Why would she go to the extent of killing herself if she had a backup crew?

 

_So it’s probably just more gibberish._

Probably.

 

I shook my head and sighed, looking up at the monitor with a bored, irritated expression. “Evidence. If your goal is to convince me that you can… Resurrect the dead, then show me something that proves it.” I stated, amazed that I was actually humoring his claim. I guess the pure ridiculous spectacle I witnessed in the killing game had desensitized me to someone claiming that the world was destroyed, or that it was a teenage girl and her sister who had done it.

“Right-o! Proof of my godlike powers of resurrection, coming right up!” He cheered enthusiastically, before the monitor went dark.

There was a few moments of mounting dread, of the steady chugging of a train of anticipation climbing slowly up a steep mountainside, riding ever further into the veil of emptiness. Wild speculation sparked within my thoughts; and my mind fluttered over the comical horror he might show me next: the absolute disrespect for the sanctity of life.

And then, a small square of white flickered at the corner of the screen, before flaring into a defined shape.

It was Sayaka. Her perfect doll-face resting peacefully, lids drawn over her eyes and ruby lips loosely drawn together. A faint warmth was present in her cheeks, the slight pink evident of blood trickling through them. Minute movement shifted across her eyelids, darting eyes from REM sleep,

My eyes widened as a breath caught in my throat, causing me to let out a half-strangled gasp. Memories of her death spilled out chaotically in my mind, all too vivid from when I saw her body so close. Beauty, tarnished. The last cry of a siren forever caught on her lips. She looked… So real. So lifelike. Like I could reach out and grasp her right now, feeling the warmth of her skin. Why do I feel like I knew her more than I did?

Excuses, excuses, my old friend. There had to be an explanation- there just had to be. This wasn’t reality, this wasn’t truth. People didn’t come back to life, teenagers didn’t destroy the world, and Kyoko Kirigiri didn’t show emotion.

This had to be a recording- That was it. She must have taped us before the game, so she could taunt us later. That was the only way it would make sense. But… But…

The blue of her hair overwhelmed the outer edges of the image, unkempt waves of an ocean blue washing over everything. It was far longer than I had seen it in the game, so long the limited camera perspective couldn’t catch the end of it- And then, there was her face. Although it maintained its facade of unnatural beauty, it had developed more refined features, her face had aged, several years at least. What?

I scrambled to make sense of these mismatched pieces of evidence, running from thought to thought and recollection to recollection in my mind; coming to a consensus, then doubting myself, then starting over again…. The whole cycle, repeating endlessly in an ouroboros of a detective who doubts herself.

 

_Nothing makes sense… It has to be doctored, somehow. It has to be._

Are we sure? The possibility still exists. We should look over ourselves… Then, we’ll know the truth.

 

Looking down at myself for the first time since my awakening, I found myself in a truly sorry state. My outfit was worn and creased, messy as if I had slept in it for several days; My limbs were thin and gangly, my jacket hanging loosely around them. Most notably, I seemed a fair bit taller, and my hair had reached preposterous lengths: it descended like gleaming spools of lavender velvet, almost trailing along the ground.

I swallowed my spit, steeling myself despite the electric coils of anxiety already bounding within my mind. I’d like to think I was unbiased towards the truth, but the actual truth of the situation was that I was just as susceptible to disbelief in the evident truth as anyone else: I just tried my best not to act on that disbelief. And now… There was a distinct truth, a real truth standing unblemished before me. If I saw every truth as equal, every theory as possible, I could easily accept this. But how am I supposed to? Am I supposed to admit this truth, even if it meant all the others were lies?

How am I supposed to admit this hope inside of me is a lie?

The chaotic energy scattering my concentration finally settled as I forced it back and gathered myself. I glanced back up to the monitor, and the reality of this situation finally strangled my remaining doubts.

Around Sayaka’s portrait, ten others had blinked to life- rounding the black center with an outline of would-be corpses. I couldn’t help it as the Brady Bunch theme played distantly in my mind- More of this impostor’s replication of Junko’s dark humor.

They were all there… And they were all like me. Hair like overgrown vines, and aged faces awash with peaceful bliss. Even Mukuro, raven-black hair and freckled face finally free from that gaudy disguise. Every deceased….

Except Junko. Instead, a stranger was in her place; she had coppery red hair, and an almost dull aura about her, while Junko’s was anything but. Even so, my mind faintly grasped at similarities between the two: like the unexplainable magnetism they shared, or their awe-inspiring beauty. But this new Junko had a different kind of pull towards her, one natural and passive rather than artificial and aggressive.

 

_Is this the real Junko? Underneath all that insanity, all that artificiality… She seems so… Normal._

Everyone has a mask. Hers was just thicker than ours.

 

Finally, the last six participants- the survivors- fizzled to life in their own, larger portraits in the previously empty center. An adorkably sleeping Makoto fitted next to Byakuya, Toko, and Hiro, who were also soundlessly dreaming. At the bottom of the group, squeezed right next to one another- were Hina and I. Hina glared directly at the camera, rage contorting her features, and I stared back at myself, a shaky confusion tainting my facade.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Aoi’s face morphed from primal anger to a concerned and somewhat relieved expression, before her voice crackled out of the monitor.

“Kyoko? You’re awake? Are you okay?” She should really have been asking herself the same question- She looked just about as gaunt and disheveled as I did: faring a bit better, with the side-effects from whatever we went through only really taking off her lean muscle rather than any real fat.

“Besides the exhaustion im experiencing, i’m fine: but we shouldn’t get hung up on that. Are you seeing the same thing i’m seeing?” I asked, forcefully extracting the fear murmuring behind my words.

“What, the…” She gritted her teeth, a blue haze overcoming her irises: like a steady downpour masking a dark night in a curtain of rain. She glanced away, hiding her expression from me before it became further stained by guilt and grief. “...Others?” That single word was filled with a world of emotion, a sea of deep, swallowing blue. “Yeah. I… want to believe they’re okay, like he says. But… It’s just…” Her speech was uneven, ups and downs like a rollercoaster as her feelings fought her will to appear strong.

The sudden stress and unexpected revelations had snatched the words from her throat, and she was left staring off at the wall beside her. I made up my mind and finished her thought, doing my best to put to use my rusty sympathy and understand her. “I understand. It’s not so easy to call your own experiences lies, and especially not if its coming from him. Like the old adage.. It’s too good to be true.”

I was never the greatest at comforting people: the height of my experience was reassuring victims, and even then it never quite got past “I’m sorry for your loss.”. I was always antsy to get to the testimony, and if they were too emotional to tell me the truth, it was someone’s else’s job to get them into condition to be that way. Besides, comforting someone meant actually letting myself feel empathy for them and trusting them: and I knew from experience just how disastrous that could be. Every “Victim” of a tragedy could always be a suspect, the culprits were usually close to the victim, and emotional distress was an easy excuse to mask lies.

Emotions were almost always a barrier to the truth.

She turned back toward the camera, a tiny smile pulling at her lips, while the drowning blue obfuscating her eyes had receded partially: making way for a twinkling star of hope in the night sky of her eyes.

“...Yeah. Thanks, Kyoko!” The exuberant energy within rushed back with full force, with only a smidgen of negativity lurking in her features. “So, you’ve got some evidence to show he’s just trying to screw with us, right?” Her smile grew a few lengths larger, and I stopped myself from wincing, knowing the truth of the situation.

I opened myself to respond, then quickly reconsidered my answer and closed it again. I didn’t exactly know how to break this to her… Especially when I was still conflicted myself. I closed my eyes and took a quick breath, gathering my thoughts and making up my mind.

“Aoi… I don’t have any evidence against his claims. On the contrary… I have quite a lot of facts resting on the other side: more than I can reasonably ignore.” I kept my voice level: considerate, but forceful.

“I think the killing game was a simulation.” Just hearing those words exit my mouth was almost as unbelievable as this entire situation.

Her eyes and mouth paused, agape in surprise; a red dawn of shock and betrayal overcome her expression. “How can you say that? That… That everything we went through… Everything we overcame… Was just some fake bullcrap? Kyoko, what’s gotten into you? Are you sure you’re not drugged or something?” I held my composure, not budging an inch at her accusations.

“I don’t say this lightly: like I said, I do have evidence. The pods, the inexplicable survivors, the odd circumstances of our waking, the unexplainable events and contradictions within the game itself, Monokuma’s attitude, the age and exhaustion we are experiencing…” I could have gone on, but from the look on her face, I seem to have made my point.

“I don’t care what the evidence says! That can’t be right! It was…. Real. It felt… Real….” She trailed off, looking down at the ground.

I gave a small smile. “I know, Aoi. I don’t want to believe it either: trust me when I say that it’s painful for me to even consider this… But I can’t just turn away from the facts because I don’t like them.” I argued, supportive yet still firm in my belief. “If I see anything that disproves, i’ll let you know- and i’m honestly still not believing it myself. But we have to go on at least assuming it’s possible.” I continued.” Besides… Isn’t this what hope is all about? Believing in the best possible outcome… Even if it seems impossible?” I gave my best strained smile through the screen- I really wish Makoto was here to do this for me.

My reassurement didn’t seem to remove all the doubts that were crawling all over her face, but she at least seemed to have admitted defeat in the argument, staring solemnly at the ground.

“...Okay. I…” She started, before being cut off by a splitting shriek of a voice.

“H-HOLD ON! I hate to interrupt this heartfelt reunion, but I have to bring you both an important message!” Of course, Monokuma- How could I forget? He just couldn’t stand giving me a moment of peace.

All the sleeping dead had been cleared off the screen, leaving the video feeds of Aoi and monokuma each taking up half the screen. Instantly upon seeing the twin-faced monstrosity, Aoi flipped from a downcast mood to an extremely infuriated state where her eyes flared like hot coals. “Can’t you just leave us in peace for one freakin’ second? What do you even want from us anymore? You… You can’t force us to do anything else!” She was determined, a distant inferno raging quietly in her eyes.

“Puhuhu…. Really? Not even if I put dead friends lives on the table?” A sinister sadism crept behind his voice like a cold wind blowing behind a curtain.

“I….” Aoi trailed off, guilt shading the edges of her face in dark, shadowy lines like something from a gritty manga, the fire in her eyes flickering, close to being blown out.

“You what? C’mon, speak up! Are you willing to let all of them die just to prove a point to me? I’m honored… But you don’t even know my terms yet! Maybe you should just bury the hatchet for a little while and at least hear what I have to say… I’m sure you’ll find my offers veerrry tempting…” He teased, his red eye glinting mischievously with a blood-red malevolence.

Aoi’s face was torn between the deathly guilt haunting her and her passionate anger, roaring like a flame defused to be doused. They fought ceaselessly, and in the end, Aoi was caught in the middle- Conflicted and unable to act.

This wasn’t all too surprising. If Monokuma held power over all the people whose cold, dead eyes we saw, glinting back at us with a cold, unflinching stare that seemed to say “This is your fault.”; the very same people i’m sure we all felt a clawing guilt for, slowly tearing into us from inside- of course he would used them as hostages. He was holding their lives above us, a dangling carrot on a string where shame and guilt drove us forward rather than hunger or instinct. What exactly he would use them to convince us to do, I wasn’t sure...  Even with all their lives in the balance, none of us would ever kill one another again.

“I guess i’ll just take that silence as a submittal. Now then... Our genius detective has completely hit the nail on the head! Ding ding ding ding! Yep! That’s right, it was alllll fake. All of it.” The jagged grin on his face grew a few notches wider as he said that, revealing the malevolent emptiness behind it.

“But… You two already knew that, which means my brilliant reveal was ruined…” He glanced downward, his face literally turning blue. Then, in a moments notice, he swapped back to his jovial cyniscim. “Oh well, we’re on a tight schedule anyways...  So this all works out. The other two groups are waiting on you! So, i’ll make this quick. Instead of a killing game, like you all thought…. We’re doing a resurrecting game! Instead of a death game, its a life game! Now get out and meet the others in the dining hall! They’re waiting!” And without any further explanation, the monitor switched off and I was left alone, only with the thoughts whispering in my head and the emptiness in my heart.

As soon as that irritating bear left, all the will drained from my body. I slowly sat down, feeling my mind buckle just as my legs were. I rested my head in my hands and just… Stared. I would cry, but the tears wouldn’t come: I had renounced them so long ago, and I couldn’t call them back.

I had been on edge for days. Every waking moment, scanning my surroundings and wondering when an attacker would leap from the shadows; using every last ounce of brain power to look the others over and predict who would make the next move, and deconstructing every tiny clue Junko left and clicking them all together only to be left with half of the picture. Any time I let myself fall into a relaxed mood, I shook myself out of it… Even my sleep was turbulent, and I was prepared to wake if so much as a ghostly breath sounded.

I could only keep myself going for so long, even if i’d been in life-threatening situations before; i’ve trained myself to be able to work through things like this… So I couldn’t imagine how the others were holding up all that time, after being abducted from their normal (Or, as normal as ultimates go) lives and being forced to stay alert for days on end. In many ways, I think that piling stress was the ultimate contributing factor to the tragedy that befell most of them: more than the motives, or the rippling tension between us all so thick you could cut it with a knife… It was that cloying paranoia and excruciating dread that built to a fever point.

That animation that had kept me safe through this whole ordeal, a confident, composed and somewhat dangerous aura to me that repelled attempts on my life like oil to water, was also the root of a fair amount of my mental exhaustion. I could see the gears in a killer's head turn, how they would look over the group like a wolf sizing up its buffet of prey; and any time I did, all it took was one look to make them scurry off and think twice about trying me.

Truthfully, I saw that look in everyone’s eyes at one point or another. Everyone… Except Makoto. By this point, I’d gladly say I know the survivors are all good, trustworthy people, even despite some of their more… Repulsive habits. But despite this, they all thought about it at one point or another. They all had the intent, perhaps an intent that was only considered briefly, but it was there nonetheless; This terrible knowledge I had was the largest roadblock in me ever being able to trust anyone in that terrible situation- not even Makoto.  I spent countless thoughts just arguing myself on whether they deserve my trust- If **I** deserved their trust.

And that was why I felt so exhausted. I could handle life threatening situations, deaths, and murders. But I couldn’t handle so much emotional trouble, which hardened and weighed heavily on my mind. There’s an emotional muscle like every other, and mine is profoundly out of shape, shriveled and malnourished. How could such a pathetic thing bear the strain of an event that challenged my worldview, gave me affection I didn’t know how to interpret, or brought me guilt I hadn't felt in a long, long time?

I made a habit of not interacting with people not just in the game, but in life, because… Anyone could be my next victim, or my next suspect. When variables like trust and love and friendship all brew together, the drive for the truth it becomes distilled, weakened. Who can search for a truth when it hurts so many of your loved ones? Who can search for a truth that you refuse to believe?

But I didn’t have a choice; I was around those people, day and night because... I had to be. And an inevitability of human interaction is that you will invariably grow drawn to those you observe and work with, even if you keep your distance: the golden thread that binds all of us, growing tighter and tighter. As much as I hate to admit it, the eccentric oddballs in that killing game grew on me like a parasite may grow off of someone: despite my best efforts to stop it, it was expanding without my consent.

I don’t show my emotions or act on them often, but as much as I wish they weren’t- They will always be here. No matter how far into my subconscious they fall, they always crawl back. When I saw the bloody pulp of a ragdoll that was left of Leon, or the limp, crucified Chihiro- The proud and smiling Sakura, or the burned and forgotten Mukuro, I felt a stinging and broiling guilt that ate away at me, and only exposed that all-too familiar emptiness. If anyone, I could have saved them: I saw the warning signs. I saw each and every killing intent the moment it glinted in their eyes like the sparkling edge of a knife. And I didn’t so much as raise a finger. But despite everything that had happened, it still wasn’t the worst.

You would think the most recent trauma would be the most painful, still lingering with excruciating detail like a insidious fire across my mind; and, true, true… I suspect for most it’s like that. But, I loathe to dwell on recent tragedies not because they necessarily would damage me greatly, but because they act as a unwitting gateway into the far more deadly moments from my past: when I was just a girl, without a shield to keep the horror from getting to her.

They’re always the same few experiences, replaying one after another like a tear-soaked photo reel, backwards into my mind.

* * *

 

My hands were screaming, crying, begging… Or, maybe that was just my voice… Or the voice next to me. The pain and the cacophony of twisted sobs intensifying, until it drew to a fever point: and then….

Nothing.

When the pain and the screams stopped, there was no relief. Instead, the dull vacancy I felt throbbing in my hands, my ears...  Resounding all throughout my head burned me, somehow becoming a hundredfold more excruciating in the absence of pain and torturous cries than it ever had been with them. The emptiness reverberated within me, jarring me in and out of reality from what it meant.

When the pain stopped, it meant my hands could no longer feel. It meant that the flames had licked and chilled them to their very bone, molding them so the world could no longer hurt them. It meant that every nerve had snapped and died, shriveling like grass drying in the heat of the sun.

When the screams stopped, it meant… She could no longer feel. It meant that the flames had licked and chilled her to her very soul, molding her so the world could no longer hurt her. It meant that she had snapped and died, shriveling like grass drying in the heat of the sun.

After years of therapy on my hands, I can finally feel again.

But there’s no therapy that can bring Yui back.

* * *

 

Grandfather always hated it when I cried.

Crying especially, but all the other emotions, too: I’d turn my head away from a corpse because I couldn’t bear the sight, and he’d straighten my gaze right back on it again. Despair and sadness would leak from me at the sight of another victim, and he’d tell me I wasn’t a Kirigiri if I let myself feel like that. I’d grow angry when I learned the horrible truth of another death, and he’d level a cold glare and say that emotions are something I should have left behind with my toys and diapers.

I shoved them down, down, down; Buried them with heaps of thoughts and distractions. I just wanted that smile when he saw me look at a corpse without even flinching, when he saw me lose any grip on humanity: on good, or evil, or love or sadness, or hope or despair. The only thing that he said mattered was the truth.

**The only thing that matters is the truth.**

I just...  Wanted to him to tell me that I was a real detective. A real Kirigiri. This is what it would take, right?

I tried, so hard. I suffocated the anger and the guilt, and the happiness and the regret under a ten foot pile of hopes and aspirations to just look alright in his eyes. But they always burst through, flooding like a dam of blood out of a gaping wound.

It was the worst when he caught me crying.

I never cried around him. I could at least hold it in, slowly bubbling and crackling, building pressure till it gave with a sickening pop. I cried in closets, when he left the house, or into my pillow at night. It was an active effort so he could never see me like that.

But he always did, eventually. He had never, never hit me: and he never would. But the cold, profoundly absent stare he gave my way while glistening tears still hung to my cheeks flared a pain in my chest that was more excruciating than any belt or hand could be. I could feel disappointment radiating off him in waves. He didn’t even need to speak words: because of the subtle cues he had taught me, the clenching and unclenching of his teeth sold his message across quite well.

Eventually, I stopped crying. My face had become my mask, and it was nearly permanently still. I had locked the emotions away and thrown the key into the dreadful pit of emptiness that was, and still is, inside my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did Kyoko's character justice- I personally can't read anything but summaries of DR Kirigiri due it only being in Japanese, and i'm aware I probably exaggerated her and her grandfather's relationship a fair bit- It's just that I can't really imagine forcing a young girl to ignore her emotions would be healthy in the slightest. Plus, this is all from her head- So it's a lot more intense up there.
> 
> Next chapter, Kyoko learns where exactly she is and meets four other survivors from the two other groups- And monokuma lays out the rules of the life game. I already have a big portion of it done, but I can't help but feel its not really that good so i'll probably end up rewriting it.


	2. Prologue Part 2: I am an empty dream of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko finds out exactly where she is and meets with the rest of the awake survivors. Chaos ensues.

Memory to me is a churning abyss, devouring and slowly swallowing everything if I ever am caught by it. It gorges itself on my time and energy in those moments as I barely even feel the seconds slipping away; It must have been five, ten minutes-I’m not quite sure- but I spent it all staring into the distance, looking at the void as it looked back into me. 

Somehow, through my highlight reel of old emptiness, a narrow bead of hope and energy that sprung to life not from a distant memory, but one of my newest: Of Makoto. One fateful paradox of a boy.

Any lengthy mental deliberation over him recently turned into a muddled menagerie of bewilderment and endearment, an artful yet sloppy dance between my affection for him and my confusion at that affection. I’d pulse with emotions I didn’t quite understand and then hopelessly try to understand them; and as I trailed over my memory of his last naive hope-bound speeches, I couldn’t help but feel motivated… Even if that motivation was perplexing to me. 

A new courage burning quietly in my heart, I stood to my feet with my burdens not necessarily lifted: but with the strength to at least carry them a little further. I stumbled over to the exit scanner with my wobbling gait, a tiny crescent grin formed at the corner of my mouth as I pushed past the exhaustion and pushed out into the outside.

The room outside wasn’t very distinct: just a narrow access point to all of my classmate’s “Cells”, more of the same hospital decor and sparkling whites hiding a layer of grime behind. Wires slithered atop the doors, tucking into the walls and into the cells, and monitors were bolted above each doorway, one sleeping dead on each of them. Despite the eyelids between their eyes and mine- I could feel them on me. I could feel a rippling chill down my back. Each deceased had a sloppy “X” icon in the top-right corner of their monitor, the same tilted blood of cross that marked dead portraits in the game; still sleeping survivors instead had a bolded countdown, ranging in time from a few hours to about a day.

Aoi was staring thoughtfully into the distance- and it was evident that she, too, had reached her emotional limit (Or perhaps, reached it again) She had stuffy eyes, with a slightly reflective trail of dried tears snaking down her cheeks like a twisting river. When she saw me, she instantly perked up: putting on a trembling smile and speaking as energetically as she could in her wavering voice. “Kyoko! It’s so good to see ya! ….In the flesh, obviously, haha.” She let out a forced chuckle that sounded more like a wheeze than anything else. “I was getting worried you were an illusion, too.” Although she obviously meant it as a joke, the chord of anxiety plucking beneath the tune of her voice told a different story.

I gave a reserved smile back and held out my arms to invite her into a hug. She gave me a quizzical look, glancing over me as I could see the gears beginning to turn in her head. “Kyoko…. Er… What are you doing?” I continued holding my arms out, looking quite idiotic as my still weak limbs began to tire. “...I’m offering a hug.” I stated simply, a blush tingling in my cheeks.

Her eyes grew as wide as a fish’s with shock as she began to apologize profusely. “Ohmygosh Kyoko, I’m so sorry! I just… Didn’t think that’d be the sorta thing you’d initiate!” I was a few moments from just dropping it and letting my shaking arms drop to my sides, but she pulled herself into my arms. We sat there for a few moments, as I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her as best I could, and she pressed her entire weight into me and nearly made both of us topple over...  But it was nice. The last time I had real, intimate human contact was… Was….

...No, I just had escaped from that all-consuming black hole of thought. It was far easier to pretend those feelings, that emptiness, those memories.. Didn’t exist, and just focus on my world right now. Like how I can finally trust someone enough to do something like this with them.

Hopefully this trust isn’t another mistake.

We pulled away from each other, and I couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile; she was beaming, pearly whites like a cheshire smile. “You… Really don’t have much practice with hugs, do you, Kyoko?” It felt like an insult, but…. Her expression really looked genuine. Curious. 

I shook my head slightly, feeling the boughs of hair now attached to me sway in the air like loose ribbons  in the wind. “I haven’t really found it necessary to hug anyone in recent memory.”

Her smile dropped a bit, and some concern hung behind her eyes as she bit her eyes. “What? So… You don’t hug your relatives?”

“Don’t have any.”

“Close friends?”

“....”

“Come on, someone had to raise you…”

“My grandfather preferred if we didn’t engage in physical contact very often.”

Not wanting to continue this conversation, I pushed past her as she opened her mouth to continue and to the large door out- It was a sleek, metal thing that slid into the wall. I located the hand scanner out, and pressed my hand against the warm plastic: with a hum, the door moved with perfect grace and in a moment- was gone, receded into the wall.

“Kyoko? Where are you going? Did I upset you?” Aoi asked, emotion flooding into her voice like water spilling out of a bucket- she was so, so vulnerable: if I wanted, I could break her. How could someone live like that? Didn’t she know not to wear them on her sleeve, proclaiming them for the world to see?

“No. We were taking too long, and it’s been stressed multiple times to us that we’re on a time limit. Now come on, let’s go.” She obliged, wobbling over to me but keeping a cloying look of worry on her face - a look directed at me, of all people- that made my stomach lurch.

Outside, the hallway was an industrial affair; a coarse corridor of concrete with a high ceiling, with walls and the doors along them wrapped in a blue bow of paint that split the sides of gray above and below. Interrupting the band of blue every so often was a block of stenciled letters, reading “Floor 1: Engineering.”, and a round window on the left side every so often. The ground below was worn and wracked, two grooves set into it from use; and small indentations were scattered around them, shape reminiscent of dinosaur tracks set into stone.

“Woah…” Aoi gasped, forgetting our trifle for the moment as her eyes went wild with a gleaming, childish curiosity. “It’s kind of like a factory, huh?” She limped over to one of the windows, pressing her face directly against the well-polished surface.

“...Kyoko, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” Something like a blend between fear and aw pulsed into her voice like an uneven heartbeat. Intrigued, I shuffled over and peeked over her shoulder.

The window itself was a reinforced porthole of sorts, a bolted iron frame with thick glass, polished on this side- but speckled with raindrops and dirt on the other. A small length of metal shutter peeked out from a thin slit above the window, like some sort of blast shield.

As odd as the window was, the oppressive atmosphere raging outside was a different manner entirely. A churning sea amidst a cragged way of jagged boulders, surface blotted by foamy patches and tiny blemishes like pen notches over every wave from the perpetual downpour the sky was assailing onto it. Rocky crags and cliffs surrounded my viewpoint, across and above me: we seemed to be underground, peeking down at the warping vortex of water just a few feet below us from inside a cliff face.

That entire sea was a colossal monstrosity, a leviathan that devoured itself into a bubbling gallet of emptiness only to regurgitate itself again, a self-fulfilling destructive cycle- an ouroboros of ocean.

“Definitely not a factory…” Aoi thought out loud, pressing her hand up against the glass. “What… Is this place, Kyoko? Why are we here? This… Isn’t anything like hope’s peak. This isn’t even really like Japan!” Frustration leaked out of her words- beginning as a trickle, but soon intensifying to a waterfall. “I just… Want to go home. I want to see Yuta. I want to binge on donuts after a competition. I want…” The sheer… Desperation in her voice hit me hard; I had seen a lot of desperate people, a lot of angry people, and I never so much as flinched. But this… Was different. It felt like one of my heartstrings had been painfully thrummed to the tune of a silent requiem. I realized a bit just how much I had grown to care for these five oddities… And it scared me. 

I didn’t know what to do when Aoi trailed off, repeating “I want” ‘s until her words devolved into gibberish I couldn't hear well enough to understand, like letters on a page becoming wet from tears. I didn’t know what to do when she started crying, either… Hopelessly clutching against the window as her tears added small drops to this side like rain had to the other. I just… Stood, and watched- a blank look plastered onto my face as I stared out into the perfect picture of emptiness outside.

There aren’t many moments I felt as helpless in as that particular one; I couldn’t help her, I couldn’t comfort her: I didn’t know what to do. So… I just waited. It’s one of the few moments in recent memory where I was honestly completely at a lack of any solution to the problem at hand- I just, well… Didn’t know. And knowing that, it made a little, hollow sound ring out inside of me.

After a little while, the sobbing stopped- and I was glad the muffled pounding of the rain was there to kill the silence that would have followed it. Aoi glanced back toward me, eyes and cheeks newly wet like her face were a landscape after a rainstorm. I was about to ask her if she was ready to go, before….

“Kyoko, are you okay?” Her tear-worn speech rang out, a puzzling question that startled me a bit.

“...What do you mean?” Such a question seemed… Totally unrelated to the situation at hand; not to mention, she was the one in grief… Not me. So why was she now trying to… Ask me about my condition?

“You haven’t… You haven’t shown any real emotions this entire time, Kyoko. You’ve been like a statue the whole time; I used to think that was just how you were, but… After Celeste’s execution, i’m not so sure. I thought the same thing about her, and that final expression I… I haven’t seen anyone who looked more regretful. It’s not healthy to bottle up your emotions….” She stared at me, worry radiating off her.

I took a moment to think about my response, before turning away from her and beginning to walk away. “You should be worrying about your own mental state, not mine; I implore you, i’m fine.” I put a little bit of spite in my voice, despite feeling like I shouldn’t.

“But you aren’t, though! You need to cry, to laugh, to… Hug people, Kyoko! You can’t just keep going through life like your own emotions don’t matter!” She seemed passionate, now- that same energetic spark when she was angry, or motivated, now addressed in care toward me.

I stopped in my tracks, clutching my hands tightly together and staring off down the long hallway. I could feel Aoi’s gaze on the back of my neck- it felt like a warm beam of sunlight. But I hated it so, so much. “I have, and I will. Don’t assume that your own lifestyle will work for me.” I said coldly, like I was reading another report off. Then I walked away without looking back.

“Kyoko!” She cried out, but made no effort to follow me. The warm aura around her faded away, and all I was left with was the pitter pitter patter of raindrops and the distant hum of machinery, hollow and empty sounds.

After passing a room marked “Star Lounge” on the wall, the hallway veered sharply to the left; after which the windows were replaced by doors on both sides. Continuing on, I passed the “Hangar” on my right, another entrance to the star lounge on my left, the “Bay” on my right, the “Ultimate Astronaut Lab” on my left, “Engineering storage” on my right, “transport storage” on my left, and finally… A set of elevators. There was a single, industrial-sized elevator that reminded me of those used in mines or the trial elevator, and a few small, office-sized elevators to its right.

Although all of these rooms piqued my curiosity… Especially the apparent hangar and bay, I would have to come back and investigate them thoroughly later. Not only was I beginning to wonder how long the “others” had been kept waiting.. I also simply didn’t wish to continue that conversation with Aoi, or sit awkwardly in the silence between us if neither of us could find the words to talk to one another.

So I opened one of the elevators and slipped inside; it was sleek and modern, mostly gleaming metal polished to a mirror sheen, which reflected back my weary form to me on all sides- slightly distorted by the impure surface. There were apparently nine floors, if you counted the surface:

Floor 1- Engineering, Power

Floor 2- Software, Medical

Floor 3- Athletics, Combat

Floor 4- Research, Leadership

Floor 5- Entertainment, Market

Floor 6- Dining, Lifestyle

Floor 7- Housing 1

Floor 8- Housing 2

Floor 9- Housing 3

Surface

By the moment, this place was looking more and more to me like some sort of… Safehouse or bunker. Nine underground floors, high security based on handprints, and apparently… A hangar. Not only that, judging by the uses of each floors it seemed this place was specifically designed to sustain people for prolonged periods of time.

I tapped “Floor 6- Dining, Lifestyle” And my stomach twisted up and down as the elevator began sliding cleanly upwards. Even if this one was far more comfortable and soundless than the trial elevator, it still injected a climbing uneasiness within me: volume on a knob being increased by increments steadily until it reached a fever pitch. It rose, and rose, and rose, on and on, and then…

And then the door opened. I felt like the world was going to collapse in on me… But there was nothing. Just another hallway.

The hallway in size was almost identical in dimensions to the ones on floor 1: the obvious difference being that the decor was completely changed. Instead of drab, dingy concrete, the walls were painted a soft gray and the floor was a warm tile composed of light browns and reds. Rather than each name being stenciled in blue letters, a small title card sat above each door.

Across from me was the “Ultimate Chef Lab”- it seemed this installation was specifically designed for ultimates, although I had never heard of either of these two. Stepping out of the elevator, I walked down the hallway, moving past the “Kitchens”, “Ultimate Maid Lab” and “Ultimate Gamer Lab” Before finally reaching the dining hall on my left. I hesitated for a moment, pausing my hand in front of the door, before pressing my hand against the lock and moving inside.

The room inside was modern, adopting the same walls and floors as the hallway but with mostly silvery gray and black furniture; it was also large, easily enough to seat several dozen people inside at once. Small high tables dotted the room, along three banquet tables and booths near the edges. One corner seemed more casual, a coffee table with a mounted sofa and beanbags near it, and the wall adjacent to the kitchens had a empty buffet line save for one side, which seemed to be stocked with non-perishables and snacks. There was also a long counter with beverage machines, plates and silverware, and condiments.

The far wall was a slanted window supported by metal bars, with the same lip of a metal shutter seen at the top. From a few floors up, the swirling maelstrom of water and rain looked like I was looking down on a battlefield, the white foam the seeping streams of blood that ran from writhing masses of the soon to be-dead.

Four other people were inside the room, bunched into groups of two- all sitting around one of the small coffee tables. I instantly flicked my eyes over them, measuring them individually  by levels of possible danger. Their posture, body language, how the light fell onto their faces and reflected in their eyes.

Easily the most suspicious person was a girl with dual black twintails and piercing red eyes, whose hair had grown so long it slithered along the seat she was sitting on. Her posture was trained: cold, calculated. Although time in the simulation must have worn it away, muscle was visible all over her body, coiled and ready to spring. The shadows under her eyes were sharp, their edges gleaming like razor-edged daggers- And the cold analysis that she looked me over with was the same kind I was looking at her with.

I had met many assassins, killers, criminals: dangerous people of all kinds, but she was only similar to them on a superficial level. While those types of people were aggressive in every sense, looking over everyone and picking out weaknesses, she was oddly defensive: she was sat in a stance ready to cover the girl next to her- the one in a witch hat- in a moment’s notice, even if by a glance you would think she was purposely distancing herself from her. A protective aura about her seemed profoundly desperate to defend what was around her, rather than take what others had- like most deadly persons I had met. 

Although it would seem that the tiny man in a tailored pinstripe suit reminiscent of a yakuza was next in my descending order of deadly intent, it was actually the picture-perfect woman sitting poised and proper next to him. Even if every movement she made was graceful, flowing like silk, there was still an uncanny eeriness behind it all, a spirit inhabiting a royal manor. In the back of her eyes was an uncanny knowledge, an eldritch gleam shining like a dark star in the light. Another warning sign was how she tended to rest her hands on certain parts of her dress, indicating a concealed weapon was tucked somewhere into the fabric.

Next was the previously mentioned Yakuza-lookalike who was standing next to the princess. Although his posture and expression screamed aggression, it seemed overdone: forced. The reality was that although I don’t doubt he could kill, he doesn’t seem very likely to.

Finally, the girl dressed as a witch of sorts- Looking short and childlike, even if she was most likely as old as the rest of us. Despite her stature, there was an almost magical flame roaring with determination within her eyes- It reminded me of Aoi’s very similar spirited motivation.

After I stepped into the nearly empty dining hall, the sharp click of my boots was followed by a suffocating silence that crept over everything like a plague. All eyes were on me, and they all seemed… To recognize me? I quickly searched my memories for any knowledge of these people, but it came up blank- Although the princess and yakuza looked a bit familiar.

“Kyoko?” The princess exclaimed excitedly. “You are present? What is going on? Does this have anything to do with the future foundation?” She spoke as if she knew me at least somewhat well, which was… Baffling to me. And this “Future Foundation”... What?

“Do I know you?” I replied, narrowing my eyes slightly. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I am terribly sorry for assuming! But… This means…” She started, a glum expression overcoming her, before being cut off by twintails.

“She doesn’t have anything to do with what you saw in the simulation, yes: we’ve already established this. We can’t trust anything that happened inside there, or really anything even “Before” it.” She spoke with more emotion in her voice than I expected from someone so dangerous- Mostly irritation, but a bit of authoritative leadership: like the kind that came from a harsh, but supportive coach.

“Yeah, but doesn’t “Inside the game” include the part where you learned all your memories were fake?” The yakuza countered with a bit of heat in his voice. “That could be fuckin’ fake, too.”

I expected twintails to retort back, possibly with sharp wit and a threat or two- but she just closed her eyes and accepted it. “If you want to believe that, i’m not stopping you. But since our group knows about the two games before it, we know the most out of you...” She opened her eyes again, adopting a thoughtful expression and fiddling with her bow. “So I have to take charge and use it the best I can.”

“Oh yeah? Like I said, how’da know that your info about our game isn’t fake, too? Looks like what both of us knew about Kyoko went down the drain!” Although the Yakuza was fairly passionate and angry in his speech, there really was no actual substance behind the anger.

Twintails leveled him a cold stare at him, sharp steel flashing in her eyes. “Your name is Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. Your childhood friend and bodyguard is named Peko Pekoyama, and she was trained by your clan to be a tool all her life. She died in the simulation when she killed on your behalf and was subsequently executed.” She enunciated each word with a sting to it, driving her point home like driving nails into a board. 

The boy apparently named Fuyuhiko immediately grew livid- Actual anger this time. A swirling whirlwind of guilt and broken pride spinning in his eyes as he took a step toward twintails, raising a clenched fist. “Bastard! What gives you the right to talk about something like that in front of everyone?” The princess grabbed his coat jacket from her seated position, lightly tugging him back.

“Please, Fuyuhiko- We need to cooperate. We can’t let this be like the game.” Glum experience was sown through her words, thin strands of blue. Fuyuhiko calmed down a bit, the tension in his entire body relaxing as he lowered his fist. 

“Just… Don’t go talking about what happened in the game like that, alright? It’s.. Not something I want to remember right now.” The anger had completely faded by now, replaced by a guilt and self-pity that completely obscured his one good eye.

Surprising me again, twintails’ serrated stare morphed into a sympathetic one, the sharp shadows angling across her face softening. “I understand: I won’t bring it up again. I was making a point, but it seems I went too far.”

She began running her hands over one of her pigtails. “And please don’t get aggressive with me, more for your sake than mine.” She left it at that, eyes darkening with a veil with regret i’ve only seen from murderers.

“What is that supposed to mean?” The princess asked politely, tilting her head slightly.

“It means Maki Roll will mess you up if you attack me or anyone else!” The witch chimed in. “She doesn’t want to, but she will!” She warned, pointing at Fuyuhiko.

“Maki” didn’t respond, staring off into the distance as black shadows of regret soaked into her. The witch placed a hand on her shoulder, and offered a supportive look and a small smile, which prompted a tiny one from Maki as well. 

“Kyoko, you should probably sit down over here.” The witch mumbled. “You’re going to get tired if you stand up while still injured.”

I obliged, walking as confidently as I could with my gait and sitting a reasonable distance away from everyone, close enough to talk but far enough to indicate I wasn’t here to make friends. “I believe our best course of action would be to start a discussion about this situation and our own experiences- you four have seemed to have already started- but before that, we should probably have an introduction. Name, and ultimate talent- since those seem to be relevant.” I laid out.

“Oh, but we already know about you, Kyoko. And the two people from group three know about us…” The princess explained, staring off in contemplation. “We all learned from our respective simulations.”

I mentally filed that information away, glad the mystery of everyone already knowing me had been cleared up. “That’s fine. Some of your information was already apparently false, so there’s no issue in repeating myself. As such, i’m Kyoko Kirigiri: The Ultimate Detective.” There was no pride in my voice: I just said it how it was.

Nobody seemed very shocked at my introduction, and Maki soon confirmed that those two pieces of information were at least correct. “That matches up with what all of us have. Where’s your partner?” She asked.

“Partner?” I inquired.

“All of us had someone who we woke up with, i’m just assuming you’re the same. If i’m right, where are they?” She said bluntly

“You must be talking about Aoi. We split up- the reasons aren’t relevant. She’ll be joining us shortly.” Maki nodded, and Fuyuhiko followed up on my statement.

“Aoi Asahina, the ultimate swimming pro, right?” He asked, and I nodded in response.

“I hope nothing has happened to her…” The princess mused. “In a situation like this, who knows what might have occured..”

“I doubt it.” I responded. “Even if Monokuma was bluffing about this not being a killing game, she’s capable enough not to get herself into too much trouble: and he wouldn’t kill someone before he’s even started his next “Game”. What we really have to worry about is her wandering off.”

“That’s not important right now! Let's just get these introductions out of the way, so we can figure out what’s going on here…” The witch argued.

“Alright, i’ll go next, I guess.” Fuyuhiko started. “I’m Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, and i’m the ultimate yakuza- Don’t worry though, i’m not going to pull anything. I’ve learned my lesson… Hell, i’ve done a lot more than just learned my lesson.” He spoke, an admirable humility in his voice.

“The inheritor of the Kuzuryuu clan.” I stated in a suspicious voice, staring him down. He weakened a bit at my gaze, breaking eye contact as a bit of guilt was betrayed on his face. “I’ve seen a lot of corpses tied to your name.” It was true- having a murder pegged to the clan was so commonplace in my line of work, that almost one out of every three in this area had the black letters of their name written all over it. When I had come to the conclusion they were the culprits- Usually my investigation was completely halted. Attempting to uncover the true culprit was nearly impossible, especially with the great personal risk it would put me in. It was detestable, a ploy to subvert the truth.

He sighed, looking me back in the eye with an honest look. “I’m not going to claim what my family has done was right, but I think everyone in this room knows the world isn’t sunshine and rainbows: we’ve all seen some shit. There’s a lot of shit I regret- a lot I think we all regret. Going forward, we should just put aside what’s happened in the past as just that- The past. If we keep getting stuck on what happened in the game, or, hell, what happened before it, we’ll never get to move forward. And if we can’t even deal with what the survivors- the people who didn’t snap and kill have done, then who the fuck knows what’ll happen when someone who did kill comes back, assuming Monokuma isn’t lying. I just don’t want this to involve into another shitstorm- and god knows it will if nobody does anything to stop it.”

I gave him the smallest smile and extended a hand forward. “In all honesty, you don’t seem like a criminal, Fuyuhiko. An inheritor doesn’t necessarily mean they inherit everything- I know that very well.” 

He looked down at my hand, a bit surprised, before reaching out and shaking it. “That’s wrong, though- I am a criminal. I’m not going to deny it, and it’s the kind of life i’ve got in store for me, if I ever make it out of this wild ride. But hell if i’m going to let that be the only thing my life is: i’m going to become something else, so I can get my own ultimate talent like the rest of you guys. A real one- Not just one I got for free.”

The princess squealed a bit in glee. “Oh, i’m so very glad that grievance has been resolved! I would hate to get on Kyoko’s bad side after she seemed like such a pleasant individual in the simulation…” She trailed off. “But regardless, I am Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Princess. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Of the Novoselic kingdom?” I inquired. It wasn’t exactly a large nation: still, though, I knew it somewhat well. In my international travels, I was occasionally called to investigate assassination attempts or murders of political officials within the country; although some jobs I was contacted for weren’t exactly my speciality, the royal family seemed to have adopted a sort of affection for my work, preferring me and a few others.

She smiled brightly. “Yes, although…” A dark shadow passed over her eyes. “...Nevermind.”

With her introduction finished, the witch and Maki whispered between each other, before turning back to us.

“I’ll go next.” Maki said, unnecessarily forcefully. 

“Maki, you don’t-” The witch started, before Maki interrupted her. “Its fine. Everyone deserves to know the truth.” She let in a deep breath, before straining out a few words. “My name is Maki Harukawa, and i’m the ultimate assassin.” 

Everyone went quiet, and all eyes were focused onto her; a few looks crossed everyone’s faces: suspicion, fear, surprise...  But she stood firm, tensing a bit from the attention. The witch pointed at us, anger contorting her face. “Don’t stare at her like she’s evil! You’ve all done bad things, too- Just like Fuyuhiko said! She’s not going to attack any of you, ever! Isn’t that right, Maki?”

Maki stared off for a moment, before speaking up. “That’s right. I already have so much blood on my hands-” She held up her hands in front of her, like she could see the thick, congealed crimson running off it even in this moment. “And I can’t say there’s much I can do to make it up to all those people. But trust me when I say-” A fierce determination sparked in her voice. “I will not let anyone die here. Death’s like a snowball- once it gets rolling, all that comes is more and more death. If any of you so much as raise a finger against one another-” Her expression morphed from one of resolve to deadly intimidation, a piercing gaze that stabbed into everyone. “I will know. I don’t expect anyone would be that stupid, but…” She started fiddling with her bow again. “We all know what stress does to people. If any of you feel threatened, or scared- Come to me. I’ll take care of it- You can count on that.”

Fuyuhiko gave her a wide grin. “Honestly, i’ve met a lot of assassins- And I can’t really say a lot of them really give a shit about anyone besides themselves- that’s why they get into the killing business in the first place. But you- Heh, you remind me of someone I used to know, I guess. I don’t know about Sonia- She doesn’t really have a… Good history with people tryin’a kill her, but I think we’ll get along just fine.”

“Actually, Fuyuhiko, I was a bit startled at first, but- I am now, as you say, “Totes” intrigued. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about your work later, Maki? Would that be alright?” Sonia was practically beaming with excitement.

“Please don’t.” Maki bluntly said, and the disappointment on Sonia’s face was like telling a child christmas was cancelled.

“Very well, I will not press you about the manner.” Sonia conceded. “However, if you ever change your mind… I would be honored to discuss with you.”

“I'm floored, but no thanks.” Maki restated, before turning her eyes to me. “Can I assume you don’t have a grudge against me, too, Kyoko?” She said it like she expected me to answer “No.”

I thought over my answer for a while- People like her were the kind of people that  made my career especially necessary, the kind of people who made the world dangerous, the kind of people whose body counts rose higher and higher every day. But at the same time- She seemed determined to change, and looked a reliable enough person.

“You very well can.” I answered. “I hope you won't be offended that i’ll keep my eye on you, however: words are one thing, but trust truly lies in consistency. When you put evidence behind your words, that will be when they are proven.” 

The witch whispered to Maki, and I caught a bit of it. “See? They’re all fine with it. You need to be more open, Maki roll…”

Maki’s face darkened, before whispering back.“All of these people are idiots for trusting me- Kyoko’s the only smart one here. If we could trust all the words that were said, we’d have sixteen survivors instead of three. If I were listening to myself right now.. I wouldn’t believe a word i’d said.”

The mage looked hurt, shoving Maki lightly. “How can you say that about yourself? I know you’re trustworthy- You’re one of my best friends! It’s only natural they’d see how great you are, too.”

Maki closed her eyes and pressed her lips into a straight line. “I really don’t know what anyone in that game saw in me.” The magician’s face washed over with a wave of empathy. “They saw you, Maki: the real you. Let’s talk about this later… Okay? I can use some of my mp to cheer you up. But for now…”

She stopped whispering, and turned back towards us. “I am Himiko Yumeno, and i’m the ultimate magician!” She announced loudly. “But, uh.. I’d prefer it if you called me a mage instead.” 

The same slightly insane gleam that had appeared in Sonia’s eyes when she asked Maki about her talent resurfaced again. “That is marvelous! Could you...  Show us a few tricks?” Her eyes were twinkling with excitement.

Himiko dejectedly stared to the side, mumbling to herself. “I would, but I don’t seem to have gone into the simulation with any mp...  And i’d prefer if you didn’t call them tricks.”

“Oh! Alright.” Sonia agreed, a bit confused. “What would you prefer, then?” 

“Just magic, please.” Himiko continued mumbling. “It just… Sounds better.”

Sonia seemed ready to accost the poor child with more questions, so I stepped in before we got too off-topic. “Now that that’s settled, i’d like to know exactly how each of you knew me from the simulation. It’s a bit concerning to me that Monokuma injected that information into your game.” 

“Well…” Sonia trailed off, looking a bit troubled by the memory. “Makoto, Byakuya and yourself stepped in near the end of our game to help us defeat Junko and end her plot. Although, I suppose that was just a farce…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Fuyuhiko corroborated. “It kinda pisses me off that all that was just… Fake, I guess. Made me really feel like we went up against the odds and did something great, but… I dunno. It’s better this way, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me feel shitty.”

“Just because it’s fake doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.” Himiko declared. “What that means to you is more important- Just because it doesn’t have a lasting impact on the world doesn’t mean it won't have a lasting impact on you.”

“Why, thank you Himiko!” Sonia smiled sweetly. “But… I do not think your words, as truthful as they may be, can convince me otherwise… The memory is still fresh on my mind, and it is… Quite painful.” Her eyes darkened. “Our supposed victory was really the only shining light in the darkness…”

Himiko pulled her hat over her eyes, mumbling again. “It hurts for me, too. You just can’t let that keep you down right now, because… Who knows what we’ll get pulled into next.”

Everyone went quiet for a little bit, thinking amongst themselves, until I spoke up. “So I was just used as a means to an end, then- He could have used anyone.”

“Well yeah, maybe.” Fuyuhiko agreed. “But why specifically choose survivors of another one of his simulations? And… We were learning about all sorts of stuff, this whole narrative about a destroyed world and a future foundation. Was he just trying to fuck with us?”

“The information I have on you all is similar- Our game seemed to take place far after the previous two in this theoretical “Timeline”” Maki added. “The difference is that a lot of our information conflicted with itself. When we exposed this, we were told the entirety of it was fake.”

I rested a finger on my chin, fitting the pieces of evidence I was given together like individual parts to a working machine. “Then… Perhaps the information conflicted with itself because it was a combination of two narratives?”

“Hmmm?” Sonia asked, a puzzled expression confounding her face. “Whatever do you mean?”

“If you had two sources…” I continued. “And each one was created at a different time during the simulations, you could end up with conflicting sources. If the first source was created before the second game, and the second after, there may be details in the first that were modified to produce the narrative in the second. Both accounts may line up with the details in the first simulation, but both cannot coexist.”

“Nyeh… That’d work, yeah.” Himiko confirmed. “Then.. He probably tied them all together so we’d know about you guys, right? If his goal was to make us all suspicious of each other… Knowing what some of you did would probably make you less trustworthy!”

“But we didn’t really learn anything about the group before us.” Fuyuhiko denied. “Why would-”

Fuyuhiko was interrupted by the hiss of the door, like a snake poised to strike. Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn away from the situation at hand and to the entrance of the room, where Aoi was standing, looking a bit more disheveled than I had last seen her- Like she had been crying a bit more, at least. She shrunk back a bit at the attention, giving everyone a weary smile before walking over to us.

“Hey everyone…” She put on the most enthusiastic expression she could. “How’s it going?” She purposefully avoided eye contact with me- Which wasn’t too surprising. I admit I was a bit… Prickly, but it wasn’t a topic I wanted to speak about for the moment: i’d reconcile it with her later.

After everyone briefly went through introductions again, and Himiko quelled Aoi’s initial shock at Maki’s talent, our discussion was interrupted by one of the monitors- the one closest to us- clicking on: Monokuma had returned.

“Helllooooooo everyone! Glad to see everyone is getting along and we’ve gotten those pesky introductions out of the way: it’s a shame I couldn’t wake all of the survivors up at once… Really slow to upload a consciousness, uknow? Even if I feel like there’s really nothing up in those brains of yours, it sure takes a long time to get that empty space from one place to another.” The sheer spite twisting everyone’s faces like howling masks would have been enough to make anyone cower, but the demented mascot took it like a champ, as per usual.

“Which reminds me, do me a favor and explain this to your buddies when they wake up, alright? Can’t go wasting all my energy on pointless explanations… I’d have to go into hibernation early! But enough of all that. What you really want to know is exactly what I meant by this new game, right? Well… Look no further! All of you will live together, day in, day out… But don’t worry, this isn’t as bad as that dreary school or a run-down island. We’re talkin’ high tech here! Wo-hooo!” Everyone’s glares only intensified at that, and Monokuma looked a bit depressed.

“Awww… You don’t like it? Well… Too bad! You’re free to leave any time you like- Go ahead, just walk on out. Or maybe take a boat? Plane? I don’t really care. But if any of you are gone for more than a week… The game is over. Which means all of your friends… Die. Or, well, maybe something worse than death. Stuck in eternal slumber, never being able to move on… Wouldn’t that just be dreadful? So! No leaving, unless you want that to happen, that is…”

“I bet you’re all just vibrating in anticipation- What’s this game? What’s he going to do now? Well, i’ll letcha know. All of you- Get to decide who lives first. Who you get to see alive again, back from the dead…. When i’m ready, i’ll call a vote. Each person gets five votes, which they can distribute however they like. Got someone you’ve got the hots for? Give em’ all five votes. Hate them all equally? Spread them out equally! If the person you vote for doesn’t win, your votes will transfer over to the next vote. So, you're bound to get your pick eventually.”

“Of course, if it were just that… It’d be terribly boring. So I hold the right to spice it up if I want to. Competitions! Random drawings! Investigations! The whole shebang. And discussion over the vote… Is mandatory. That’s all for now, folks! Have fun exploring the-”

“Wait.” I seethed. “I have a question.”

“And what makes you think i’m going to answer it?” He questioned, tilting his head at me.

“You can decide when you hear it.” I bargained, feeling a bit ridiculous glaring at a stuffed bear.

“Hmmm… Well, alright! Ask away.” He conceded.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you letting us undo the work of all your games? Doesn’t this go against the very thing you said you stood for?” It was a simple question: but a perplexing one. It had been weighing on my mind from the moment I heard the purpose of his new game, and although I had my suspicions, none of them quite added up.

The toothy maw on the left of his face grew, sharpening into a wicked crescent. “Why, you ask? Why, Mr. Monokuma? Why are you giving us this gift, when all you’ve done is take things away….?” 

The red on his left eye glinted like a feverishly beating heart. “Because i’m curious. Haven’t you all ever had questions? Questions you knew you could never answer, for one reason or another, but you wondered about them anyways? Well… I have questions too. A lot of them, actually- and I finally have the tools to answer them. How could I possibly conduct three different killing games, all with different settings and twists- In a real world? For that matter, how could I then test the survivors, and see how exactly they’ll take the ability to decide who they get to see first?”

“Most of the world is boring- it’s all predictable. All just a constantly repeating cycle, endlessness unto itself. But people… People are interesting. They react, they change… People are so malleable, so interesting. So why wouldn’t I wonder? Why wouldn’t I answer when I can?”

“You may call me sick, but the truth is there’s no harm done with you lot answering my questions. No one was hurt, no one died… Can you really call emotional damage all that important? I can’t see any scars on you… Now can I?”

And with that last question, the monitor flickers off, the image of his grinning face lingering for a moment, seared into my mind.

Out of everyone, Maki seemed the most furious. The shadows drawn across her face were painted so thickly I thought they would swallow her, and her eyes were red suns underneath them. “He’s using us like like guinea pigs.” She said quietly, but so forcefully the words echoed despite their volume. “He thinks our emotions are some sort of game.”

I kept a watchful eye on her, half expecting a sudden outburst at any moment. “Everything here… Is set up to have us turn on one another.” I concluded. “Three groups means three different sets of lost classmates, and three different agendas. The voting system is specifically engineered to promote selfishness- Since votes carry over, someone can ignore the wants of the majority and focus only on their own needs, and mandatory discussion means we can’t avoid arguing over something as tentative as our opinions regarding who wakes up first.”

“Then.” Maki started, loathing resounding throughout her voice. “Nobody is going to turn on one another. Because…” She gave a long stare at each of us. “I’m taking over. I can’t trust any of you not to be idiots- Like everyone in my game was, so it’s my responsibility to do it for you.”

“Hey, hold on a minute!” Fuyuhiko shouted. “You can’t just make yourself leader! Isn’t there supposed to be a democratic process or something?”

“As if either of you know anything about leaders being elected democratically.” Maki said bluntly. “Do you want to try to stop me? This isn’t a time for someone to be chosen because of how much everyone likes them- That makes a weak leader. This is a dictatorship- My dictatorship, because i’m not going to see everyone turn on each other like dogs. If you all want to hate me, that’s fine- Better than hating each other.” Nobody really had anything to say to that- How were we supposed to argue with a trained assassin?

Himiko looked up at her, looking worried and a bit scared. “Maki roll…” 

“Let’s start with a few ground rules. No violence. At all. Ever. If there’s even so much as a single drop of blood shed, it better have been a mutually agreed sparring match. You’re allowed to keep weapons on you for self defense, but I better not see them drawn unless the situation is dire.” Maki’s anger was beginning to distill, bubbling down into determined fervor.

“No keeping information was the group. You can keep your secrets, but if it’s relevant to our situation, I better know. No stockpiling resources. Only take enough for your own needs, not enough to impair the rest of the group. No leaving. You can wander off a bit, but if you’re gone for an extended period of time- I will personally track you down.” Her tone almost reminded me of a scolding parent laying down the law for her children.

“I’m electing Kyoko and Sonia as my supervisors. If any of you have any problems- Go to them or me. If any of you ever break a rule- I’ll know. And there will be repercussions. Does anyone have any objections?”

The room went deathly quiet. Everyone looked like they had something to say- Especially Fuyuhiko, but nobody had enough courage to speak up against someone who could stare knives into you. After a few moments, Sonia was the first one to speak up.

“Pardon me but… If you’re going to take control, do you.. At least have experience in leadership beforehand?” Despite talking back to someone who could probably kill her before she could blink, Sonia didn’t seem bothered.

“I don’t have experience with anything but taking care of children.” Maki said coldly. “But I have a feeling that’s all i’ll need for this purpose.”

Nobody had the guts to refute the implied insult, so the room just went quiet again. After a few moments, Maki’s hard grimace softened a bit.

“I hope you guys can forgive me for doing this… But it has to be done. If I don’t do this, it’s just going to be someone who is willing to let everyone off with a slap on the wrist, and that’s not how we’re going to fix this.” She began running her hands through one of her ponytails. “Now that that’s over with… Let's see what we have to work with this in this place. Sonia, Kyoko, stay with me- I’ve got some stuff I want to talk about. Everyone else- go scout out this place and report back when you’re done… Make sure you check the rest of the survivor’s timers, too. Give them the rundown if they wake up.”

And with that- The life game had begun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give everyone a bit of development after the game, or at least keep the development they had at the end of the game. Obviously, Fuyuhiko is more open- and he shows more of his actual personality. Himiko is more forceful, less lazy, and doesn't stress the whole "Magic is real" stitch so much. Kyoko is more trusting, but still not really ready to discuss her past- and the biggest difference is Maki, who is willing to step up for the good of everyone even if she does it in a slightly intimidating way, and is also willing to openly admit her talent. Sonia and Aoi also have some differences, but its not too obvious since their personalities were already fine to begin with.
> 
> Next chapter is from a different characters PoV, and I finally get into the more character-based scenes I even made this fic for.


	3. Daily life 1: Part 1- "I'm okay" (Himiko)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himiko welcomes Shuichi into the new world.
> 
> She's okay.

Sitting here, looking down at Shuichi- He’s like a sleeping princess, waiting for his true love to wake him from his curse. He looks… So peaceful, like the few moments he was really at ease during during the game. That content smile is magic, and it should warm anyone’s heart. Or, at least anyone who has a heart…

If anyone deserved to smile and be happy, it was him. Such a meek soul, hardened and tempered by hateful curses.

I’d prefer it if my story was the truth; if Kaede would come and kiss him awake, and they would live happily ever after. But the reality was that he’d wake up all on his own, from a nightmare in his sleep to one in reality: with his bridge sleeping instead of him, and no way to wake her but to sacrifice his own ideals.

That wasn’t magic. That was just pain.

So, when his eyes fluttered open to this new world, i felt a twinkle of relief- But regret and pain, too. Maybe it would’ve been better if we all just stayed asleep.

“Took you long enough, sleepyhead.” I teased. “You were such a pain, Maki said she was wasting her time waiting for you and wandered off.”

“Himiko?” Shuichi muttered, confused. “Where are…. What is…?”

I pressed a finger to my lips and shushed him, smiling knowingly. “Worry not, brave knight Shuichi! For I, the all-seeing Himiko, will divine it all to you!” I wiggled my eyes in a mystical manner; his face lightened a bit, and then he let out a nervous laugh.

“I asked you where I was, not what my distant future is going to be.” He said jokingly. “Argh- This headache is really screwing with my inference skills, so you’re actually going to have to give it to me straight.”

I gave a concerned look and offered up my hand to help him out of the pod. “I don’t really have any magic that can cure headaches, so you’re just going to have to get some aspirin from the pharmacy. Everyone’s dealing with some kind of soreness, though, so there might be a lot of people there.”

He took my hand, and I pulled him over the side of the pod with some effort and groans from myself and Shuichi. “...Pharmacy? Just where are we?”

“That’s something we really don’t know yet…” I admitted. “Maki and the others are combing the place for clues, especially Kyoko; but last I checked, we really don’t know.”

“The others?” His brow furrowed as I helped him to his feet and he winced in pain, leaning on my shoulder and almost accidentally knocking me over. “Wait… Kyoko?” His eyes widened with realization.

“Yeah… Turns out they’re all real… And still young, too. Unless Tsumugi cast  _ mirror image _ and is cosplaying eleven people at once.” I joked a little, but I could already see a  _ fireball _ of questions and answers exploding in his mind.

“But that means…” He glanced back towards the pod.

“Yeah. It was allll an illusion.” I said whimsically. “I’m still trying to comprehend it myself. I’m used to magic, but this is… Just insane.”

He stared off, face darkening like a spirit had possessed him. “What… Why? Why are we still here? Why are we still connected to… That game...  I thought we were done with this!” Anger danced in his eyes like raging devils. “Whatever it is… I’m not participating. I won’t leave this room, if that’s what it takes.” He was emboldened, standing as tall as he could with his still exhausted body.

I looked him straight in the eye with empathy written all across my face, and gravenly said: “I don’t think you should decide that so soon.”

Shuichi glanced back at me. “Huh? W-what do you mean, Himiko? Is this… Not another game? That’s what I deduced from what you’ve told me.” I opened my mouth to respond, feeling all the energy draining from me like someone held my heart in a  _ chill touch _ . I… didn’t know how to break it to him that he really didn’t have a choice.

“No, it's not that. It’s just… We don’t really get a choice. I know you’re willing to do a lot to not be toyed with any more but… The game isn’t about killing people. It’s about bringing them back. And if we don’t play… No one is coming back.” I stared down at the ground. “If you still don’t want to do this, i’ll support you...  Because I trust you, Shuichi. But give it some thought.”

He stared off into the distance. “So….” He breathed out, nervous thoughts crackling across his eyes like lightning bolts. “Everyone who died. They can…. Come back?” He seemed confused, and… I really got it, honestly. I had just begun to accept death… And now… And now….

When you bathed everything in a thick coat of “Magic”, everything was better; it’s so much easier to think that I have power over the world, that I can manipulate it to my whims than… The other way around. Isn’t it just so much easier to say that my mentor left because of something magical rather than that he left because he wanted to? Isn’t it just so much easier to blame my constant lack of energy and motivation on a spell, rather than… Depression, like the doctors said? 

Tenko and Angie’s death was maybe the first time I…. I really couldn’t justify that excuse anymore. No matter how I spun it, I couldn’t possibly see how something I loved as much as magic could be so cruel as to kill them, even if magic has a dark side… Because even the dark side was wonderful, in a kind of super villainy rivalry sorta way. It didn’t kill people- especially my friends.

It was hard. It was really, really hard. I felt like I was powerless again, like I was a fish flopping helplessly out of water. I felt like some dark mage has sapped all my power away, and now I was just some scared, depressed little girl again.

But I got through it. ...Kind of. I don’t really know. The feelings come back a lot, because I can’t really make excuses anymore; it’s still fun to see everything in the sparkling light of magic, but I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m weak, that I’m the worlds oyster, instead of the other way around.

It’s really hard to do anything when it feels like I’m slogging through quicksand in every moment, like every tiny task is a mountain that I’m just hopelessly trying to crawl up. And it’s not like I didn’t feel this way before: I’ve felt this way for so long. But the difference is before, I had an excuse; it was always just that my mp was low, or someone had cast enervation on me: not that I just… Felt hopelessly lethargic, all the time, for no real reason. 

Depression really sucks. 

And that’s just me having to come to terms with how I feel all the time: not all the things I had blamed or claimed on my own or other’s magic over the years. I really try not to think about them, because then I’ll have to admit that they weren’t what I told myself they were and that means I’ll have to admit what they actually were…. And I think I always blamed those events on magic for a kind of good reason. When I really have to come to terms with what actually happened… It feels like I’m lost out at sea, trying desperately to stay afloat while the sea throws me around like I’m nothing.

But that’s been my life. I have to say, I definitely think my life before I realized all this was better: at least, I felt better. But I know that if I keep working at it, It’ll get better, better than even when I lied to myself about everything. So I put all my effort into everything, every day, and I work through the weight pulling my whole body to the ground… and I work through the feelings that say I can never change everything as best I can. 

And for a while, it was kind of… Nice. Despite everything happening in the game, every death after theirs adding another weight on my shoulders until I felt like I was crawling… Just… Crawling everywhere, I was making progress. The world made sense: and I finally saw it for what it really was. Sometimes, I slipped back into my own world of magic. But I always come back out.

And then this happened. 

It’s not like I didn’t fantasize about Tenko, Angie, Kaito and maybe even Kokichi coming back from the dead… Maybe I would cast a resurrection spell and they thanked me for my amazing spell casting powers, or they would come out one day and tell me it was just an elaborate prank. It was those fantasizes that occupies a lot of my aimless thoughts, pointless wishes for a better world. 

But when I finally got exactly what I wanted, a chance for them to come back, to talk to them again even if its just to thank them and tell them how much they really meant to me- It just feels so wrong. I felt like I had finally moved on, worked through their deaths and the guilt weighing in my stomach like a bar of iron. But now, it feels like every moment here is another reminder of just how useless I was to help them, just another reminder of how I never could say what I really thought of them. I have to see their sleeping faces, and they look so peaceful… Even if I saw all of their corpses, wrought in ruby red. I want to stop thinking about them, just for a little bit, because these feelings are eating me up from the inside just when I thought I had worked past them- But I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about them, I can’t stop visiting them and just watching them endlessly dream because there’s nothing I want more than for those eyes just to open.

And yet, sometimes… I wish I never would have come here.

That thought makes me want to vomit: How could I be so selfish? Their lives… I want to ruin this chance, just so I feel better? Do they really deserve that? Of course not. I wish I was the one sleeping, because.. They deserve it more than me; they really, really do. I don’t know how I lasted this long.

But i’ll work through it.

I’ll be strong, for them: the people who taught me what being strong even means. 

I offered Shuichi a sympathetic smile and patted him on the back. “Yeah.” The look I saw slipping by in his eyes was something like a lost puppy. “Do you want to see them?” I knew that all seeing those faces would do is hurt him, but I knew that if I didn’t show him now, he’d just come without me later- because the gaping hole their deaths had left us with yearned to be filled: wanting desperately just to see them again, even if it just made the hole deeper. At least this way, I can comfort him as best I can, even if i’m not really good at it- because I can't even work out my own feelings, not even considering other people’s

He nodded, his face twisting into an inscrutable expression of contemplation, like some eldritch puzzle box. “What are the rules of the game?”

I supported him as best as I could, as we limped a few steps to the exit of the tiny pod room. “It’s basically a vote. Everyone in all the groups vote, and the winner gets awakened; you can split up your vote and the votes, carry over between each vote, too.” I pressed my hand against the scanner and the door slid open. “Kyoko thinks it's designed to get us to fight each other.” 

“Do you think this is still team danganronpa’s doing?” Shuichi asked as we shuffled into the pod room corridor, whose monitors had turned off after we left our first time.

I gave that question a lot of thought- To be honest, I pondered a lot of the revelations we learned about during the last trial: it was just easier not to. Everything was just so hard to wrap my head around, not to mention the extra bombshell of learning that not just our memories, but our experiences were fake, too.

There wasn’t really much evidence to suggest we were still being monitored and broadcast or anything, mostly because I can’t imagine anyone enjoying watching this much suffering- except Monokuma, of course. The game was suffering for sure, but it was at least intense: a deadly, energized atmosphere was always present, buzzing in the back of your mind and reminding you that you could be the next body to be discovered. But here- All that tension and dread had settled, creating a sickly sadness that spread like a virus. People were doing their best to stay positive, but the combined weight of their experiences only grew heavier and heavier as the single minded determination we felt in the games wore off completely, leaving only guilt and trauma in its wake: we all had a shadow clinging to our backs.

As for everything else we learned in the last trial… I really don’t know. For the simulation to be possible, something had to have been a lie, but what? I feel like i’m talking to Kokichi again, a conversation riddled with red herrings, false truths, false lies, and a maze to the real truth; even if those games were so irritating… I kind of miss them now.

The possibility that my past could maybe actually be true still exists, considering a lot of things that were completely denied in that trial I had actually seen with my own two eyes. But… I don’t even know if I want my past to be real. I miss all those “characters” all those figments of imagination, all my friends and family… And especially my mentor, my old wound of abandonment newly reopened. But… Could I confront them, knowing just how damaged and fragile I am now? Could I confront him, after finally knowing he abandoned me out of jealousy?

“Nyeh, I… Don’t know.” I lamented. “But who would watch fourteen kids mope around and cry all day? We won’t even be doing anything that interesting…” I danced my eyes across every black monitor in the hall, trying to remember which ones were Kaito and Kaede’s- the people he’d want to see most.

“Monokuma finds it interesting, at least.” Shuichi pointed out. “We thought people wouldn’t want to watch kids kill each other, either, but… Look where that got us.” Regret tingled in his voice.

“Yeah, but… He loves that kind of stuff, of course he’d be interested. He said the whole thing was just to answer some dumb questions he had, or something.” I recalled. “Wouldn’t saying it’s team danganronpa conflict with a lot of the stuff they told us?”

He stared off thoughtfully. “You’re right, but… Wasn’t Tsumugi the one who confirmed all of that? From the number of rooms I can see, she should be one of the sleepers…” He questioned.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s…. Fair, actually. Group 1 said Junko was sleeping, too, although apparently a lot was different about her. But… If they were in on the simulation, they’d probably be awake too, right?”

He nodded. “That is a possibility. It’s also true that could be faked, somehow. But… I don’t really want to speculate too much until I have all the facts, so…” His eyes became unfocused and cloudy.

I smiled sadly. “Do you want to see them, now?”

All he offered was a tiny nod; I was still a bit hesitant, but I nodded glumly and reached out for Kaede’s monitor, stopping just before my tiny fingers touched the surface. “If you… Want to talk about what you’re feeling, i’m right here, okay? Your feelings are safe with me.”

He gave me the kindest smile, but his eyes were like storm clouds. “Thank you, Himiko.” Closing my eyes and sighing, I touched Kaede’s monitor.

I kept my eyes forcefully sealed shut for a few more moments, knowing the pain i’d feel when I opened them- But after a few moments, I worked out the twisting knots in my gut and opened them.

I didn’t know Kaede very well, and, for the short time she was alive, i didn’t really care about her, either. She was to me what most things were- A pain. A hassle that drained the unexplainably low amount of energy I always had, with her energetic leader routine and tendency to drag everyone around with her like a filthy childhood doll.

When I came to my senses after Tenko and Angie’s deaths, I… Felt really guilty. Not just about the way I treated them, but the way I treated everyone- Including Kaede. I treated them like no more than annoyances, like flies that wouldn’t quit bothering me, and that… Wasn’t right. And now, all i’m doing is waiting for my chance to make it up to them.

And Kaede looks like an angel.

I liked to compare people to magical animals a lot- it was fun, just imaging their features shift and twist like putty until they were something so much more interesting. Kokichi was a goblin, Miu was a harpy, and Tenko was a particularly insistent Nymph.

Back when she was alive, I thought kaede was like a fairy. Beautiful, sure. Enchanting, sure. But the drawback of just having to be pulled and prodded around everywhere by someone so lively wasn’t really worth it.

Now i’ve realized that thought was a little hypocritical, because Angie had bucketfuls of energy that radiated into the air with such a sickly sweet smell that it made my stomach churn with a cloying nausea; but the difference was that Angie was a siren, instead of a fairy. It never felt like she was telling me to do anything, just that she offhandedly suggested things and I felt somewhat compelled to do those things. I’ve only realized after endlessly replaying my memories of them -trying to extract any last drop of meaning from those moments- that she was manipulating me. It tarnishes my perception of her a bit, but at least her manipulation wasn’t as dangerous as Tsumgi pulling each of our strings with a suave nuance, or Kokichi provoking someone into just the right reaction he wanted.

But now, after seeing firsthand everything Kaede has done for Shuichi- and everything she had consequently done for Maki and I…. She really does seem like an angel, a shining martyr who sacrificed herself without much recognition. I can almost see her ahoge filling out into a gossamer halo twinkling atop her head, or pearly wings unfurling from her back. But all that glimmering imagination was tainted by steely guilt digging ever deeper into my chest every moment I saw the people I didn’t even try to become friends with.

But my emotions were nothing compared to what I saw all across Shuichi’s face- An indescribable bundle of emotions so passionate, yet so hopeless.

His eyes were like shattered windows, with a murky water beneath, twinkling with a moonlit reflection. His face was a crumpled canvas, wrinkled after an artist abandoned it. But to it all… A refined determination glinted, holding all the scattered pages of his psyche together.

He clutched his hand to his chest like he was crushing his heart between his fingers, dripping the blood to an altar for some invocation. He let out a few shaky breaths that sounded like the ghostly whispering of wind, before opening his eyes again and just… Staring. That stare had a thousand thoughts and emotions behind it.

I gave him a few moments, contemplating how I should even begin to start understanding how he must be feeling, before I tentatively asked: “Did you love her?” 

That question caught him off guard, as his endless stare broke as he glanced over to be, blinking a few times in surprise. The question brought an inquisitive aura about him, the kind of powerful magical energy I sensed whenever he was working out a question the rest of us couldn’t begin to fathom, before he spoke with regret and affection slowly pooling into his shaky voice. “I.. Think so. I feel like I shouldn’t,  because the amount of time i’ve actually spent with her shouldn’t be enough to determine something so important like who I love, but… I can’t really help it. She seemed to know me better than I know myself, and she gave up everything just so I could accept who I really am. She was kind, and endearing, and maybe a little bit too forward sometimes, but…” He trailed off, reaching his hand out toward her monitor.

I smiled, pulling him into a bit of an awkward hug, since our height difference meant I was just shoving my face into his chest. “Shuichi, you have to promise me something.” I insisted.

“W-what?” He asked from above me.

“When she wakes up… When Maki, you and I get her out of there… Tell her how you feel. How you really feel.” 

“But… Like I said, I really don’t think i’ve spent enough time with her to-” He objected, before I cut him off mid-sentence by lazily moving my index finger above me, running it all over his face before I found his lips and rested it on them, shushing him.

“No, no… None of that. Didn’t she tell you to not shy away from the truth? And the truth is… You love her. It’s like a spell has been cast over you two, binding you together forever…” I rambled on in my whimsical tangent. “The circumstances behind love don’t really matter, but if you really think they do know that life or death situations like the killing game draw out the most potent emotions in all of us. Hate, malice, grief, regret, sure… All hateful curses. But, too; friendship, devotion, determination, hope…. And love. Maybe you didn’t know her for very long, but what I saw in that trial room was quite the powerful binding between you two.”

His entire body became rigid as he tensed up in my arms, and I withdrew my finger from his lips and wrapped the arm around him again. Over a few moments of comfortable silence, his body loosened and he spoke up.

“You’ve got a very fairy-tale sense of love, Himiko.” He laughed sadly. “I wish I could see it like you do… It’s just an emotion that doesn’t make very much sense to me right now, honestly.” He admitted. “And my thought process has always been about making things make sense, so… It’s not very easy for me to just listen to them like you do.” He withdrew from the hug, adjusting me hat and sheepishly running his hand through his hair. “But alright. I’ll keep your promise… But I have something to ask you, too.”

I thought for a bit about what he could be asking about, but I came up blank. “Yeah?”

“Do you love Tenko?”

Now it was my turn to be caught off guard, my own spell deflected back at me. “I…” It felt like water was pouring into my throat, sloshing in my lungs as every breath failed. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. What kind of a question was that?

But his smile.. A considerate, knowing smile, because he just went through the same thing as me, kept me afloat, and most of the water cleared away. I started to talk, but my voice was uneven, jumping up and down between highs and lows, strung along by a whirlpool of emotions inside me. “I’ve thought about that for a while, and after her death I really felt like I wanted the reciprocate the feelings she had for me, even if it was just to… Grieve her more passionately, I guess: or make it up to her somehow. But I just… Can’t. No matter how hard I try and force myself to see her the way she sees me, I still feel like she’s just a good friend. I feel terrible that on top of how I treated her, I don’t even feel the way she does. I can’t feel the way she does.”

Shuichi’s grief-struck expression faded a bit, morphing into one of considerate encouragement. “I think it’s fine, Himiko. Nobody expects people to have the same feelings as they do. Actually, with Kaede.. I really expect her to not have the feelings I do. Sure, she’ll be disappointed, but you have to be honest with her; because leading her on, even with good intentions- will eventually lead to more disappointing than if you told her outright. So promise me- Just like I promised you- you’ll tell her. And no waiting, either. If you want to be there for her, you have to make sure she understands what your relationship actually is.”

I stared at him, mouth agape in shock, trying to think of something to say to refute what he just said. Anything, because the feeling of guilt I felt inside was painfully, painfully real. A chisel endlessly chipping away at me from inside. But eventually, I just smiled and accepted his words.

“Okay.”

I meandered over to Kaito’s monitor, and clicked one on as well. Unlike Kaede, who only made me feel guilt, seeing Kaito again was more of a bittersweet sensation. Kaito was probably one of the greatest people i’ve ever met, along with Shuichi, Maki, Tenko, and my mentor. Actually, the kind of vibrant and explosive energy Kaito exuded reminded me a lot of my mentor, and the way he simply dripped enthusiasm for his show and the smiles it created. I was always a little jealous of his confidence… And that’s probably why it’s so unbelievable to me that he would be the one to abandon me from jealousy…. 

I wish Kaito was here, but his and Kokichi’s deaths were the only ones throughout the entire game with any sense of purpose to them: the rest of us were puppets hung on golden nooses, made to limply dance along to the tune of a shrill sound. We thought the thoughts punctured into our mind were our thoughts, and we thought the emotions sown into our hearts were our emotions.   
  


Kokichi saw those thoughts and feelings for what they truly were: lies. He must have known the whole thing was a lie, right from the beginning; so he cut his own thread, and Kaito’s along with it. He tumbled down into the long darkness, but of his own volition: a smile stretched wide across his eerie face.

So I didn’t feel the same grief I felt when i saw everyone else… I felt bittersweet agony, and anger at myself that I can never see those lies from the truth: all I can see is my own false magic.

Shuichi had a pained mix of happiness and sadness on his face, too; they mixed together like clashing colors twirling into a dizzying swirl of eye-bleeding contradiction.

“How is Maki dealing with… All of this?” He got out, probably realizing she must have seen Kaito as well.

“She, uh… Well, she seems really dedicated to not grieving. When she saw his monitor, she just started… Shaking. She grit her teeth so hard together I thought she was going to break her jaw… But after a few seconds of staring and not answering me, she just turned away and stormed out of the room.” I recalled. “I caught up with her and tried to talk with her about it, but she just told me to “Drop it” and “focus on what’s important.” When we met up with the others, she took control and made a bunch of rules… She seems really strained, honestly. Like any second, she’s going to snap. I have no idea what’ll happen when- or, hopefully, if she does.”

Shuichi’s eyes glazed over with worry. “It’s… Not too surprising that she doesn’t want to talk about how she’s feeling, but… The fact that she’s stepping up and leading everyone now is both good and bad. I’m glad she’s willing to talk with everyone and work for the whole of the group rather than just isolating herself… But you’re right about her snapping. Maki’s one of the most reclusive people i’ve ever known, and the amount of emotions coiled within her must be insane by now. If she won't let herself grieve…. I hate to say it, but she might take out all that repressed anger, guilt, self-pity and sadness out on herself or someone else.” A butterfly of a shadow fluttered across his eyes.

I nodded glumly. “Yeah.. I’d try to get her to open up, but she always just ignores me. And honestly…. I’m not really good at talking to people, anyways. Never learned how: magic is the way I express myself.”

He showed me an understanding smile. “It’s fine, Himiko: I get how you’re feeling. It took me the whole game to even begin talking to people well, and even now I feel like my heart will burst in some social situations… But it’s improved a lot: so i’ll talk to her. I know Kaito better than you do, and he’s done most of the work on getting her to drop her guard already; I think this situation has just set her back into her old ways a little bit… And she thinks that to get us through this, she cant let her emotions rise to the surface.”

I had to admit, I was a little jealous of just exactly how… Confident he’d become, while I had stayed the miserable wreck that was myself. The old Shuichi was still in there, just like he said; but most of the time, it sounded like he knew he was capable. He used to be a lot like me, and now he’s become someone so unlike me: someone who has the energy and willpower to change the world.

“Yeah… Thanks…” I muttered dejectedly, staring off.

“Himiko, if you don’t mind, could you… Turn on all the other monitors, please? Kaito and Kaede were the closest to me, but… I want to see them all. At first, all I felt when I saw her face was guilt, a guilt so biting deep that I could feel it chewing at my bones; it’s still there, but this also helped me remember her words… And now there’s a tiny flame of motivation in all this. It’s just made me realize how much I want to see every last one of them smiling and laughing. I don’t care what they did, who they killed or…. Who killed them. I just know we need to keep going until every last one of them is awake.”

I absorbed his words for a moment, before realizing something. “Even Tsumugi? Even Kiyo?” I couldn’t help it as my eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

Shuichi winced in realization, shaking his head and clutching at his heart again. “Yeah… Yeah… You’re right. I was thinking so fast and really, it's still a bit unbelievable to me that that’s even who Tsumugi really is. When I think about her… The first thing that comes to mind is that persona of hers; she built it up so much, and now that I think about it… Every moment, she was constantly drilling it into our heads. “I’m normal.” “Nobody worth paying attention to.” Every moment she was just following the crowd, blending in…” He trailed off. “But I don’t… Know if she deserved anything of what I just said. I want to forgive her, I want to give her another chance. But I don't know. And I definitely think Kiyo deserves to-” 

“They both don’t deserve it.” I answered for him, voice suddenly devoid of anything but spite.   


“-But-” He tried to speak up again, before I cut him off again.

“No. Kiyo and Tsumugi deserve to die- No, they deserve to sleep for all eternity. What they’ve done can’t be forgiven.” I could feel something… Stirring inside me that I had never felt before; it felt like a swirling vortex of magical energy, a pot of infernal desolation summoned from another plane.

Shuichi’s eyes widened in surprise and concern. “...Himiko?” He was looking down at my hands.

I didn’t even notice- They were clenched and shaking. My nails were digging so deeply into the soft flesh of my palms that four sharp pin pricks seared into each of my hands, but the pain felt dull- distant. Like I was watching it from a distance.

“Are you okay?”

I strained a smile.

My nails dug deeper.

“I’m okay.”

A warm trail of blood ran through my fingers.

_ “I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay....” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Sonia and Fuyuhiko have a chat, and everyone finally gets a haircut.


	4. Daily life 1: Part 2- A world of lost souls (Sonia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonia has a chat with some of her new classmates while providing some very needed haircuts.
> 
> Lots of inner dialogue and contemplation. Slow chapter, like always I guess.

To describe the people here as living is to describe a shadow as a person; they are the flickering darkness drawn on the wall of Plato’s cave, the long-spun mockery of the person that came before it. Everyone seems lost and broken. I don’t really know if I appear the same way to them...

My heart aches, and it throbs a gentle tune to a melody of my homeland- nostalgic notes, once plucked with carefree bliss, now soaked in a bitter melancholy. How is it that the sweet air and smiling faces of Novoselic become ever more present in my subconscious, while the seething undertones of negativity I of all people would know of Novoselic recede ever further away?

I’m feeling homesick. It’s hard to admit, because it seems such a pitiful and insignificant grievance compared to the sung requiem that hangs in the air along the plucky strings of my country’s anthem, but my grief for the dead and my longing to see them again is met by my equal longing to see my beautiful land again. Glittering fields, glistening lakes. She seems almost another dead to mourn in my mind, Novoselic- Gone too soon.

Is it too early to say that? Countries don’t die as people do. They may seem slain, the evil remains of an empire or the pure, saintly bones of a utopia- or, as close as we may ever get- but truly, they live on: In a way people never do. Rome still lives in the heart of our culture, as does Egypt, and Mesopotamia...  It takes a careful and considerate, a coldly structured dismantling of an entire people to rid a country from history.

I know this. Yet, still- the draining void echoing here in my heart says otherwise. It’s a bit odd to say this about the very place that robbed me of a normal life, that turned my parents into shells of their former selves as they struggled to account for every variable of our small nation like a thousand gears turning together, where a single miscalculation may lead to untold catastrophe. If I were a spiteful person, I may loathe the place as I loathe the very few utterly irredeemable aspects of this graceful existence.

But i’m not, and I don’t. Even if I haven’t taken this mare by the reigns yet, as far as i’m aware, I still look upon my nation like a child of mine. A bit romantic and nonsensical of a notion, sure, but… True nonetheless. Perhaps that’s why, when I follow a winding road of logic to its current conclusion, I see only despair.

Who is right? If i’m to believe the Junko from my simulation, I was turned against myself and the very cause of hope- Even if I hope, I beg, I dream the gods of fate to spare it, it’s not hard to assume that a Sonia deep in the throes and unquenchable ecstasy of despair would crush Novoselic like an ant beneath her heel. Or, worse- Use it as a grim blade, against the world. How ironic would that be?

And if i’m to believe those three gray ghosts, Maki, Shuichi, and Himiko- Then i’m naught but a figment. Would my nation be the same? Or would I be an outsider, unrecognized by my own people, having my throne lost to the rightful owner. Or, worse. Far worse, far more dreadfully, dreadfully worse. What if Novoselic is a figment alongside me?

It’s hard to ascertain exactly which would be worse- despair, or the cruel embrace of falsehood? Clearly, I should certainly think of the total corruption or destruction of my should-be inheritance, the lands I should protect and nurture until they blossom again as the worst possible outcome. And yet, although the feeling is selfish and digs, a corrosive and rotten ailment in my mind- I cannot rid myself of it: some part of me wishes for the former option.

To learn that my beautiful, beautiful Novoselic was never even mine, or that it wasn’t the perfect place I remember in my childhood and that haunts my dreams would be… It would be devastating. I’m tempted to prefer the former option simply just because it... Makes a degree of rational sense. Wrapping my clearly mortal mind around an alien concept, the complete erasal of everything I thought I knew is just…

Well, I suppose I don’t exactly need to accept the lesser of one of these two evils as the apparent truth at the moment: nothing is stopping me from just… Believing in the story we tell ourselves. That our memories are correct, that every single disconcerting “truth” we were told was just more fuel for our despair; it’s true I never saw a world or Novoselic ravaged by despair, nor myself when the incandescent gleam of madness must have burned endlessly in my eyes. It’s true there’s no real evidence anymore: the playing field had been razed, left open for wild speculation and hope.

But is it really acceptable to disregard what little evidence I have, to pick and choose what I want to form a perfect little picture that helps me sleep at night? That helps me believe that when I return, Novoselic will be exactly how I left it? 

It’s hard to say. We’re in a world where anything goes… I don’t know if that's a good or bad thing anymore.

I feel a little selfish that throughout all this, I wouldn’t take the lead. I’ve spent all my life preparing for the rigors of my position, studying sociology and public speaking, steeling myself for the challenges of being held accountable for an entire nation.

And yet, I couldn’t take a stand, every time when I should have been able to. I’ve let inexperienced leaders take the leads, and now, i’ve let a murderer have total control. If I can lead thousands of people, why not 16?

It’s hard to admit that it’s just because I didn’t want to be Sonia, experienced leader and speaker, queen-in-training for the kingdom of Novoselic- I wanted to be Sonia, high school student. And so, I sat back, knowing full well just how beneficial my expertise would be to everyone.

It makes me wonder if i’m even fit to be queen; if I wither away from the opportunity to lead fifteen of my friends, how can I lead a nation of strangers?

Then again, if I were their leader, they wouldn’t be my friends. Not really. They would be my subjects, people to abstract and dehumanize for the sake of the greater good- because after all, its startlingly difficult to make decisions when you know everyone that it’ll affect personally.

So, i’ve decided to take the time to get to know all of them, at least: a benefit afforded by my own cowardice. Everyone here is a stunningly complex painting, a repose of clashing styles, mediums and colors; with new layers painted over and over themselves, and again and again, by an artist never satisfied.

I wonder how I appear, from those looking in. Am I a beautiful landscape of my homeland, painted in blurring watercolors, swirling and twirling and dancing like I would? Or something far, far darker….?

Now isn’t the best of times to gander at all of my classmates like a tourist loitering around an art museum- They are… Far more reclusive then I imagine they would’ve been in the early stages of this whole nightmare. I can see the change in those who lived out the killing school trip with me, how shadows are quietly drawn across their faces by the ghosts of sunny days in tropical paradise; Their blossoms had withered and died, shriveling under the cruel winter of despair. 

But for the others, it's hard to tell exactly what they were like before. If I am chained against the wall of the cave, how am I to know what had cast the shadow? At the beginning of our slow, ever descending spiral into misfortune, some of us were already like shadows, our past, a creeping coldness against our inky skin; and as time within the simulation dripped on and on, the black against us grew deeper and darker still.

But no matter how much everyone must surely want to be alone right now, alone save for the troubling thoughts and reminders that ever insistently barrage our minds, the least I can do is draw them out and get to know them. Not only because I chose befriending them over leading them, but also because of the potential reactions between them. In our game, some souls were like oil and water: others were a match and an unlit fuse. Who knows how three groups of once-weres will muddle together?

So, i'll see them all, all their beautifully sad colors and patterns, all the rippling shades against their shadows. I’ve decided to offer my somewhat obscure skills as a hairdresser, and although it has been long since i’ve practiced, it’s sure to draw in even the most elusive persons, who are like grand mysteries.

* * *

 

Kyoko is a lavender box, filled with all that isn’t.

Her calm collection, her poised preparedness like a perfectly still lake, isn’t like others I have known. Rather than someone trained and ready to subdue their emotions, she’s like someone who needs to be trained to even feel them; Maybe she feels it’s better that way, but I can’t imagine such a void inside oneself would be wholesome.

Her unfaltering facade is impenetrable at times, where she could or would not waver at the most precise of strikes. Yet sometimes, she seems as defenseless as can be, where anything may cause her hands to waver, and breathing to hitch.

It’s not as if the armor was removed for those few moments. It’s more like… The armor was never there. Striking at two persons, one with and one without.

When she came to me to dispose of that lavender waterfall, she was as quiet as ever.

“How is the investigation proceeding?” 

She remained still, gloved hands intertwined in her lap while I worked on her hair. “It’s going.” She says, quietly but confidently. “Hard to work without a base to work off of. All this information is interesting, but it’s all scattered- Like just a few puzzle pieces, without the rest. “ I can hear each word, clearly and precisely chosen.

“How did you hear about my little operation while you were working? I heard from the others you were nowhere to be found.” It was true: this place was massive, for an underground facility. And Kyoko was scrutinizing it all at a frenetic pace, far faster than those meandering behind her.

“Cell phone. Maki’s passing them out to everyone, but she wants a special channel of communication between us three. She got them from the market- Apparently, they’re linked to a local network. No communication in or out, only inside this facility.”

“That is… Somewhat concerning, but not especially surprising.” I replied. “Of course monokuma wouldn’t allow easy communication out of here.”

“About that.” She started, rubbing a thumb against one of her index fingers. “I’m beginning to consider the possibility that this facility wasn’t chosen or even modified by monokuma. From what i’ve gathered from the others, every previous location has a few consistencies. Cameras and monitors, obviously, but also locations that aren’t accessible from the start.”

“But… Is it not possible that that’s simply because Monokuma has no need in this particular game? According to him, that is something different this time…” 

“Possibly. Group three has told me that apparently, in their game, their cameras were some sort of miniaturized machines, tiny and virtually indistinguishable from the human eye. It’s ridiculous, and i’m calling everything I thought I saw in that game into question now that I know it’s true form, but we still can't discount the possibility. Even so,  this place doesn’t seem like it’s designed for any type of game; It’s built more like a bunker, something to protect us- The structure and engineering emphasizes support and fortification, there’s blast shields on every window, and from what i’ve heard, the lowest floor even has an even lower level specifically designed as a bomb shelter. But at the same time, this place has clearly been custom-tailored for us. “Labs” for all of us, and all of the housing and other facilities match up with our numbers, give or take one or two.” When she’s saying the facts of the case, she seems most at home. Careful. Calm. Unwavering. But all that can change in just a few words.

“Hmmm… Still. We do not know yet. Have you visited your lab yet?”

She tensed up a tiny amount at the question, before realizing it and forcing her hands to unclench and jaw to loosen. “No.” Quite the chatterbox just a few moments before, yet she clams up so quickly…

“Oh? I would’ve thought in your investigation that you would’ve at least peeked your head in.” She remained silent, staring straight ahead.

“And that reminds me…” I continued. “Aoi was looking for you. She says she hasn’t been able to talk to you since the meeting earlier.” That seemed to have done it, as her hands visibly shook in tiny, barely noticeable patterns, and her eyes grew unfocused and layered with mist, if only for a moment.

“Noted.” She stated, beginning with a tiny irregularity in her voice before taking the effort to smooth it out. “I’ll be sure to speak with her later.”

Kyoko didn’t speak much for the rest of the haircut: any time I asked something, it was a similarly terse, curt, response. When I was done, she stood quietly and left, without another word.

* * *

 

Maki is a knife with the sunset reflected in its gleaming, serrated edge.

Kyoko’s emotions were voided things, only tiny figments that emerged occasionally; but Maki’s were raw, with jagged edges just recently cut. Someone perhaps not very used to dealing with emotions- But she seemed to embrace them, at the very least- or was on the first steps to, anyways.

There was a lot of effort she put into trying to appear less… Stoic, I suppose. Somewhat of the opposite of Kyoko’s ideology, she gave me the smallest of smiles when she walked into my makeshift salon, but it was there nonetheless.

“How are you performing as our leader, so far?” I asked, while setting to work on the two black cords her tech-induced coma had created.

“Well enough.” She closed her eyes, clenching and unclenching her fists rhythmically. “Everyone seems to know what they’re doing, for once: I guess a killing game can knock some sense into anyone.” A little blunt, but from someone like her… It was understandable. “I might have to spend most of my effort into… Pulling us together, rather than dealing with idiots. Everyone’s just so… Silent, and distant. It was just in the heat of the moment when I decided to do this, but now…. We’ll, it’s a little different than I expected it to be.” A touch of hesitation and uncertainty fizzled within her usually commanding voice; this clearly wasn’t her forte.

Maybe she took charge because she thought it was necessary, but there’s a lot more to leadership than giving orders: it’s easy to be selfish, but all too hard to be selfless. How do you deal with the competing needs of five people? Ten? One hundred? A thousand? In many ways, a leader’s job is easiest in the most desperate of situations: the shared need is survival, perhaps not easily attainable… But very easily recognizable.

Then, how do you measure happiness? Is it worthwhile to benefit one, at the expense of another? Trying to inspire the spirits of this world of lost souls is trying to fit a few broken puzzle pieces together, and it’s something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. Maybe it’s selfish to leave Maki to this, but in truth, I don’t think any of us have it in us anymore to be selfless. But… Maybe, she does. The ignorance of the difficulty of exactly what she’s attempting might just save her.

Just maybe.

“I’m sure you can do it.” I lied, a fake smile stretched across my face, the kind my parents taught me so young I can’t remember. “How are the newcomers?”

“Annoying.” She sighed, opening her eyes with her perpetual glare. “Most of them, anyways. Your classmate… Kazuichi, was it? This whole situation is something else, but he needs to tone down his reactions… Nothing gets done by being loud.” More insight into her ideology- Apparently, one bad apple was enough to spoil the bunch for her. 

It’s not as if I disagree wholeheartedly. It’s… An accurate statement, at least somewhat. It’s not the noise that makes him annoying: no, no, Maki was very wrong in thinking that noise doesn’t accomplish anything. Those in politics should be used to noise, because sometimes… The loudest person wins. Clearly enunciated, refined and composed verbiage can be easily trumped by barbaric screeching- When you speak intelligently, softly, but confidently, you distance yourself so heavily from that on which you speak of: The way Kyoko can seem to not care in the slightest about anything.

I’d like to think the greatest combination would be a bit of both, mixing in emotion alongside intelligence- But oh well, that’s not always the case. People don’t remember the line that speaks volumes about your competence, they remember the line that speaks volumes about your passion. Mottos, mantras and quotes: shouted from rooftops. Sometimes, these words are from master speakers, intelligently composing a ballad for the masses. Sometimes, it’s from a howler monkey screeching into the crowd… And they might eat it up.

So noise is important, but what bothers me the most about him is that he’s not Kazuichi, my friend, the person who has ridden with me on this rocking rowboat amidst a storm of gargantuan proportions. No, he’s the Kazuichi I’d see from a crowd when I speak. The Kazuichi who waits in a line to get my autograph. The Kazuichi who reads tabloids about the royal family’s personal lives.

He’s not a friend, he’s a fan. He’s not a person, he’s another dot in the sea of a population. That’s harsh to say, but he’s created this reality, not me. I didn’t come to Japan for the same adoring stares my people give me, nor for the reputation of royalty: I care here to be Sonia, not Sonia Nevermind.

And he refuses to see that I’m a person. So, I’ll do the same.

* * *

 

Fuyuhiko is a silver serpent embossed on the tender ends of a paper bill.

He’s perhaps the most selfishly unselfish person I have ever met. A leaving, breathing, cursing contradiction. A contradiction he created himself, but a contradiction nonetheless.

Smothering one’s own personality isn’t easy; I would know. The jovial little spirit of the soul has a way of peeking through the cracks, worming its way around even the most stalwart of self-imposed restrictions. When speaking as a leader, it is perhaps only an emphasis on certain aspects of my own self in such a way where it is not trying on my resolve. A little more strength, power, forcefulness, ego. Passion. Still, I have had times where I was forced to act so contrary to my underlying, beguiling thoughts where it has provoked me to wretch inwardly. Smiling in the face of the corrupt devils and unapologetic idiots of the political world: I am an actor who only knows to play the part of someone who isn’t disgusted by the creeping filth underneath the surface.

So I would know how it feels to live a lie. A lie so deep-set, so entrenched within the truth of himself that he still falters back on it to this day. Strain. Oh, the strain of a facade that has worn on him for far too long; a facade so he may attempt to fill the blood-sopped shoes he has had so unjustly shoved upon him. He lives a lie, a lie that he probably feels killed his bride.

Although it's amusing to see him in such a sorry state of hairdress, far removed from his usual buzz cut, what stood out altogether more is the somber recollection seeping vehemently among his features, a great and dreadful graveness. 

What would you say to someone whose death you feel responsible for? What about a lover, torn away by time and fate, who you thought you’d never see again…? Or, someone who you know was perfectly content dying for you, even if you would rather it be yourself on the stake?

I can’t say much for but one of these, but the questions themselves undulate with a pulsing, intriguing sadness, like quivering hands in two lover’s last embrace. It is one of dual aspects, both the fear of a desolate future and the fledgling hope that comes with uncertainty.

“Greetings, Fuyuhiko.” I began. “How is this different hue of a world treating you?”

Even now, the two sides of him battle: the impostor, and the previously suppressed real self. Now, that underlying self shines through, like beams of light piercing through a cracked vessel around it.

Although he has become less aggressive, it’s clear he’s still holding back. Even amongst friends who have seen him at his very worst and still supported him through it, he still seems like he feels he has something to prove. Like whatevers underneath isn’t quite good enough for us- I don’t get it, myself. Perhaps he sees it as weakness, but this isn’t an era where strength is so easily measurable; not by the loudness of your demands, the stubbornness of you ideologies, or any degree of physical prowess. But… by the measure by which you approach existence. Accepting or denying the challenges that beckon. It is so easy to be a tyrant: it is all too difficult to exhibit true kindness. Such individuals are diamonds in a rough of pitchy soot, and I question daily if i’m among them.

“This place is…” He stops. Glances around. Sighs, long and weary. “It’s not much different from the last. A watery cage, a gilded cage, a mental cage… What’s the difference? I could leave if I wanted, but god knows I won't. The bars might not be physical, but they’re there.”

True. Very, very true. But his disdain for the exact nature of cages is perhaps misplaced, considering to desire true freedom is to desire the impossible. Trading freedom is necessary for safety, power, and a great deal many more things in life. Our situation is… Undesirable, to say the least, but he strikes me as the kind of person who feels heavy shackles of gold and iron at all times. We all have chains, but you must learn to move as best you can within their limits to live to the fullest.

“It is a bit… Stark, to be sure.” I replied lightly. “I’ve never enjoyed bunkers, even those lavishly decorate such as this. And the weather and cliffs are a bit grim… It reminds me of Scotland.”

He pauses for a little while, sitting down and staring ahead with a face slightly contorted by that lingering grief and, a little bit of anger: towards whom, I could not know. “This whole situation is just so fucked up, Sonia. I feel like some bastard is reaching right into my chest and playing with my heart, and the worst part is that there’s fuckall I can do about it. What am I supposed to do, become some sort of robot?” HIs voice shook and shuddered with an emotional conglomeration of anger and fear, two bloody notes smeared together.

“That is one way to go about it.” I answered, voice steady but still considerate. “But perhaps not the best. Truthfully, I am coping well, despite the madness all around. Or, about as well as one can cope, anyways. I can’t say the same methods may work for me as they do for you, but I happen upon this strange sanity by looking inward, toward that black abyss which lies in all our hearts. There is beauty, in the grim, and the dark. And to ignore it is not only a disservice towards those finer, ebony strands within yourself, but an open invitation for them to ever so slowly creep into the other parts of your being. We are told to know our enemies, so why not that greatest enemy, the fiend which lurks within? Accept and observe those emotions which trouble you, rather than attempting to ignore them; nothing can come of ignorance but misfortune, as they say.”

He takes a few very long moments to process everything, laughing in a sort of tired and slightly afraid way. Afraid of… Me? “I don’t understand how you do it, Sonia. To see beauty in the worst parts of yourself, to… Want to think on all of it for so long. Makes me think that maybe, you’d be a better Yakuza than me.” 

“You shouldn’t say that, Fuyuhiko. Your talent isn’t just what was given to you: you’re here for a reason. We all are, in this world of lost souls. And if we’re to find our way again, it will take everything we have.

He gives a sad laugh. “Everything we have isn’t a lot anymore- Just vestiges of a life we’re no longer living.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's me again. It's been awhile.
> 
> I'm gonna go ahead and use these notes as a way to describe my thoughts that I had while writing this fic because this fic in general is just kinda me attempting to go into great depth about characters who we don't necessarily ever see the thought process of our any real in-depth backstory so lets gooooo
> 
> This one's about Sonia, and I have to say an odd thing that's happened throughout me writing each of these chapters is that I end up having a newly acquired appreciation for each character that I write about. Himiko went from "Meh" or "Nyeh" if you will, tier in my nonexistent, hypothetical tier list to probably A tier, and that's because I realized a lot about her character that I didn't before. Now, some of the stuff I did probably didn't exist in the first place but you get the point.
> 
> It's the same thing about Sonia. I think I changed her character quite a bit but then again, who doesn't? It's hard to be faithful to a character especially one who doesn't exactly have an enormous amount of material to work from. I ended up emphasizing her political and more dark aspects, as well as her intelligence because I think it makes her inner dialogue a lot more interesting. Sonia didn't really have any very meaningful contacts in the killing game besides Gundam, and I'll be sure to touch on that in a later chapter (It's briefly mentioned here) but for the most part for a political leader like Sonia i'd expect her to be quite homesick but also quite scared how exactly her country is faring. Especially with the whole bombshell at the end of SRD2, and the one she received from the "Gray ghosts" or, the v3 cast. 
> 
> I feel like Sonia's attributes as a kind of ignorant? Foreign princess are maybe a little too emphasized in SRD2 but then again a lot of it is for comedy like the joke she's introduced on. If she's actually supposed to be a political figure and was raised that way i'd expect her to have great knowledge in speaking, geography, psychology... Etc. That doesn't mean she can't be kinda daft in other aspects, just that I think she would be knowledgeable. 
> 
> I tried to transfer Sonia's love for more morbid interests also into her advice for Fuyuhiko and also a lot of her inner dialogue since it's hard to get that aspect of her personality out without directly referencing slasher films or serial killers like the game does. I think some of her inner dialogue also shows exactly how she can be someone who can be very easily driven to what you could call drastic actions and she's perhaps a little more dangerous then she's portrayed in the games, as i've already began expressing with how Kyoko assumed she had a knife on her. Once again, if you're royalty you probably know how things work and have dealt with at least a few assassins. I think she's also somebody who would do a lot for her people, but she's a bit conflicted in that although she loves her job or, her future job more like, she also dislikes just how exactly... Impersonal it can be. She expresses this in the game a lot but I also say it here that the reason she dislikes Kazuichi and why I choose to believe she rejects him so viciously is because he essentially acts the complete opposite way she would want a potential lover to act. She probably gets the kind of shit Kazuichi does to her with suitors in her home country all the time.
> 
> And that's probably why she likes gundam cuz he's a fuckin weirdo and literally doesn't change a bit talking to her, and is perfectly willing to do his dumb overlord of ice routine in front of her, and it also helps that he's a living embodiment of her fascination with dark subjects, which is probably also a fascination derived from her explicitly wanting to break free of the stereotype of being a pure princess her family and country probably surrounded her with. So she's really conflicted between her country and personal self, I think which is how a lot of leaders go.
> 
> In terms of this situation in particular I think the trio of Maki, Kyoko, and Sonia are definitely the most influential and possibly dangerous people, and its somewhat of a coincidence that I put them on the council together but they are all extremely intelligent and capable.
> 
> That's it for now! Maki next time.


	5. Daily Life 1: Part 3- The Robin (Maki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A room, a killer, a message from the past.
> 
> A sky, an Artist, a musician.
> 
> A sunset, a knife, a robin.

What have I gotten myself into?

I don’t know what my life is anymore; I can’t tell if this is worse or better than what came before. I hated that life, hated it even as I pulled myself further into it, refusing to even try to escape that echo chamber of bloody lines.

What it took for me to escape the life I told myself I loathed was a mocking demon pulling me into someone else’s nightmare. It’s so strange, being in a horror situation like that and feeling more like an onlooker than anything else: even if I was technically in danger like the rest of them.

Strange, but also relaxing. It’s an insult to all those who died to say such a thing, but it wont change what happened if you spit on someone’s grave or not, and I might as well say what’s on my mind. I can honestly say that those first few days of the killing game were some of the most peaceful i’ve had in a long time; just wandering around, following a bunch of idiots who didn’t know what they had gotten themselves into and pretending to care.

I didn’t feel any real sense of danger, since it’s a laughable proposition that some random high-schoolers with talents like “Artist” or “Pianist” could somehow even get within five feet of me unless I wanted them to. THe only people who had any real chance were Ryoma and, knowing what I know now, possibly Kiyo- But it’s not like he would have chosen me anyways. Actually, that goes for just about anyone: why would they choose me, with so many vulnerable targets? Even before they knew my truth; everyone probably suspected that something was up with the shady girl who liked to stay behind the curtain.

And as ironic as it is, I didn’t really feel pressured at all to kill, at least in the beginning. Who cares about freedom, when the prison is better than what’s outside? This must be how Ryoma felt about just about everything- I’m sure he could have broken any cage they put him in.

Maybe the “Producers” and…. The traitor thought maybe that i’d think i could somehow escape my previous captors after I “Won”- But I tried that before in my fake history, and not just once or twice. They might kill any other redhood who went AWOL, but they couldn’t just put down their best assassin like a dog; it was some sort of sick privilege I was afforded. I wouldn’t give in enough to take my own life, either, no matter how hilarious it might be watching from whatever horrible afterlife I won for how many sin coupons a thousand deaths or more under your belt lands you, if one exists at all. Maybe i’d be hanging out with Hitler and Genghis Khan in hell’s exclusive “More demonic than demons” club.

Or maybe they just wanted me to live long enough to set off whatever chemical rube goldberg machine they hobbled together to get me to love that idiot. I’m sure even if I executed one of my classmates perfectly, like swiping away a speck of dust, I still would have died; their pretty little had to go on, and it wouldn’t be very exciting if the trained killer won.

That idiot… What. An. Idiot. Turning what was a relaxing, if a little morbid vacation into one of the most stress-inducing times in my life, second only to my initiation into the redhoods. What a perfect way to get someone impervious and apathetic to your little game in on it: making them care about the dumbest, Darwin award-deserving idiot there is. I hate that I love him. He’s a dumbass, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

God, I can’t believe I just wrote that. Maybe it just comes to show the power of whatever subliminal messaging they got me with to make me like him, or… Whatever any of this even means now that i’m living with fictional characters in a huge underground facility. I’ll get some more time to think this over when i’m not wrangling idiots and a few people probably way smarter than me… Maybe. I don’t want to think about i’m going to say to him when he wakes.

Whenever he happens to wake.

I’ve realized I could probably intimidate some of the people here to vote for Kaito, and i’d be lying if I said I haven’t considered it, but i’m past stuff like that- For now, at least. Part of it’s because I know on some level that’s what the bear wants, and in the beginning of this whole trainwreck I might’ve not really cared either way. But now, all that rattles around in my head when i so much as think about benefiting the bear is that annoying laugh and the reminder that he’d be controlling me. 

Again.

How I hate being controlled. First by the redhoods- if you even count that “ultimate real fiction”- then my Tsumugi like some sort of fiddle. It makes me feel like a weapon myself, held in someone’s hand with no will of my own: my only purpose to destroy.

That’s part of the reason I even volunteered to be in charge. Part of me said that if i’m the one at the top no one can control me, but i’d be an idiot if I didn’t understand that there are figureheads all the time with the real wielders of the weapons in the shadows behind them. Somehow i’m beginning to think the foundation for that exact situation are being laid as we speak- Mostly from Kyoko and Sonia.

Which is exactly why I elected them as my subordinates. I can keep an eye on them, and at least make it easier for them if I end up being as malleable as I have been in the past. 

Something tells me that my suspicion and paranoia are getting to me again- Why should I have any reason to expect that people just as traumatized as me have any volition to control me at the moment, or try anything like violence? But I can’t help it. Control that should be long broken is written into my very being, a gear in my clockwork heart that turns and turns. They made me not trust anyone. They made every shadow an edge.

I can never have a normal life again: they took that from me. How am I supposed to hold up a job when i’m always wondering if my boss wants to kill me? How am I supposed to walk down the street when I lunge at anyone who reaches into their shirt? How am I supposed to… Love somebody, when they could always betray me....

I think too much. All it leads to is circles and circles of doubt, eating and devouring themselves. An organization that doesn’t even exist planted a poison in my mind. SHE planted a poison in my mind.

* * *

 

I’ll kill her, when she wakes. She won't even have a moment of this new world.

* * *

 

First order of business: check this place from top to bottom. Kyoko’s got the evidence, I just need to make sure nobody is going to get killed.

At least, I would check it from top to bottom, if it wasn’t for just how annoying the design of this place is; It’s not even that its huge, with nine floors in all. It’s because there’s so much I don’t have access to. Every door has a fingerprint scanner; maybe a little too high security for some place Monokuma might want us to get us to kill each other: but it makes my life a lot harder. How am I supposed to be sure there aren’t any particularly dangerous threats when I can’t even access half the rooms?

I can get into anything that isn’t a lab or a housing room, but those are specifically off-limits to anybody but their owner. Sure, I can get everyone to let me into theirs- i’ll probably ask at dinner. But the issue remains that they’ll have plenty of time to find and stash a weapon somewhere else before I get to searching it; not an issue I should have with the rest of this place, with how caught up everyone is with the shock and grief of it all.

God, god, god. There it is again. Why would mourners want anything to do with senseless death? Why do I feel the need to check every drawer and locker, as if a pistol will be there, waiting to greet me?

It’s no matter: Better safe than sorry, and I wholly intend to follow out that mantra to its fullest extent. It’s the possibilities of what I could find or someone could be planning that matter, and those possibilities are so dreadfully grim.

* * *

 

Floor nine.

It’s housing, for my group specifically; you could argue the most well-informed group, but somehow even knowing all that I know, I still feel so ignorant. There isn’t much to see here- A lot of rooms I can’t look into, not that i’d expect them to be full of dangerous items anyways. But it’s always worthwhile to check.

One of them is my own room; It’s not really necessary for me to even check it, since i’m the only one with access to it: But for the sake of completion, I might as well. If it’s anything like my room from the game, it’ll be pretty sparse.

My room’s on a corner, facing the long wall with windows that look out into the roiling sea. I’m smudged between a “Lounge” that seems to belong to Himiko- From what i’ve seen, there’s one each floor and they’re like small break rooms with a different owner each floor- and… Kiyo’s room. At least it isn’t Kokichi or Tsumugi, not that I should be seeing either one of them for a while. And one of them I shouldn’t have to deal with for long.

All the doors seem to be personally decorated: Kiyo’s has eloquent golden embroidery on it, making it seem more fit to a manor then what amounts to a hotel hallway. Shuichi’s was pretty blank, just a dark blue- Although, there were a few pink flower stickers across it. And mine… Well, it wasn’t really what I was expecting. It was black and red, like most things relating to me are- But, with a drawing of a guitar on it. Black with red accents, and my name in looping, curving letters.

It didn’t make any sense to me; Just about all you could say about me was that I was a killer, and at some point- A caregiver, but there’s not much of that left of me. Not anything like a musician, although… I played a few notes here and there back at the orphanage. Then again, that was all fake, anyways. 

Sighing, I pressed my hand against the scanner and pushed open the door, expecting a bare room like the one from the game.

In reality, it was anything but. It looked lived in, or… At least, was lived in at some point. There was dust everywhere, although not an inordinate amount. Objects were out, personal items scattered around: it looked like someone had left and never came back without so much as picking up, although it wasn’t trashed or anything. It also clearly wasn’t just a bedroom, more like an apartment. I was in what could be described as a living room, with doors leading off into what looked like a small dining and kitchen as well as a short hallway.

It was lighter than I expected. Maybe it was just how much the color scheme had become a part of me, the red, like bloody streams and the black like a cloaked shadow behind its next victim, but I thought I’d see more of it. Instead, there was… A surprising amount of blue. Blue walls, blue carpet… And not a dark blue, either, but a more sky light-blue. The furniture was sleek and modern, minimalist, and a white sofa.

Actually, I had thought the walls were just a flat coat of paint… But they weren’t. They were actually a painting themselves, with small details of a painted summer sky- an airplane, fluffy clouds, and even a small sun- All painted in swirling patterns, like a watercolor. I never really cared for art, so this all is…. Mystifying. I ran my hand along the wall, feeling the slight bumps from each stroke, and soon… I felt myself being dragged off. My vision fogging over, my eyes dropping. Something was wrong. 

Drifting…

Away….

* * *

 

I’m back in the same room, but at the entrance to it- leaning on the doorway and peering in. The whole place is devoid of furniture, and a white sheet covers the entire floor. Standing on a stepladder and singing lightly to herself is Angie, brush in hand carefully sweeping in wide strokes, with a pastel of colors in the other- mostly blues. She’s not wearing the garb I would know her for- Instead, just a simple baggy white t-shirt and sweatpants, both of which are splattered with different paints, some old and some new. She looks like a very odd chameleon, with some paint even splattering her face. I myself have on only a gray hoodie and jeans.

She’s painting the wall, a mural of a brilliant blue sky that i’d seen just a few moments ago. She’s only part way done, and she hasn’t gotten to the ceiling yet.

There’s a lot wrong with this all, but it’s like I’m in a dream: I can’t think, can’t speak, can’t breathe. The real me is drowned beneath an odd layer of crackling feedback, like static on a tv. I want to shout, but I don’t even know I do. Something inside is just telling me… This isn’t me.

“And what’s going here?” I say, without my will: my voice just spoke on its own. Besides, it wasn’t like I how I would say it, it’s a little lighter, a little less worn down. The difference between an rusty blade and a new one. I said it a little accusing, but also lighthearted: jovial in spirit.  

Angie turned, giving a beaming smile- and I immediately notice something… Off with her face. She’s not like I once knew her, there’s a certain glimmer lacking in her eyes, which I can’t quite tell if its a good or bad thing. Furthermore, her eyes are… Tired, incredibly weary. She looks sleepless, rather than angelic and divine, as she usually does.

“Oh, nothing much.” She casually says, looking back at her work and applying a few more strokes. “Just a little touch up.”

“And “A little touch up” to you is moving all the furniture out of my room and beginning to paint all over my walls?” I raised an eyebrow, but my expression wasn’t angry, like I should perhaps have reason to be. Instead, I was just a little intrigued, smiling a little at the tiny artist and her project.

She shrugs, flinging a bit of paint off the brush still in her hand: which I watch splatter across the tarp on the floor. “I was told to not “Go overboard”, so i’ve decided i’ll only paint the walls. If it were up to me, your stuff would still be in here.” She gives me a little wink.

I chuckled, stepping into the room, onto the crackling tarp, and closing the door behind me. “And who exactly let you in here?”

She poked her cheek with her paintbrush, squishing it down like a marshmallow and mulling it over, before giving a brusque answer, smiling all the while. “Kaito.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell me that, were you?” I ask.

“Of course not! But who knows, maybe the wrath you will throw upon him will inspire further works of mine. Besides, you would have found out eventually…”

“Right you are.” I admit. “But what makes you think he’s the one getting the beating, and not you? You are the little artist, after all.” Even with that threat, I still kept my tone casual and lighter than I ever did in the game.

“Because you love me! Everyone does. Besides, beating me up now won't undo your room’s new paintjob, now would it?” She said cheekily.

“No, I guess not.” I acquiesced, shifting to a more serious tone. “Still, though…” I ran my hand along the already painted wall opposite of her, feeling the tiny ridges and valleys created by tender strokes- its own little geography. “I don’t know why you bothered. Making something this beautiful… That only Kaito and I are really going to see. Such a waste. Don’t you want this somewhere everyone can see it?”

Angie let out a devious laugh, like she often does- but, different than before. More childish than devilish, comforting than conniving. “Oh no no no, Miss Maki!” She grinned and shook her paintbrush at me like she was scolding a child. “Art is not to be admired, or seen by everyone- Art created without real purpose is art without real meaning. This sky is for you and anyone else you let see it- And no one else. It does not matter if only you and I ever set eyes on it- Because what it means to you, the one I made it for, will be more than any bystander could ever be.”

I stopped my tracing of the mural on a robin, suspended forever in the crystal-blue sky. “....Then, why a sky? Why all this?”

“Simple, silly! You stay inside all the time- and that means you miss out! So i’m bringing the sky to you: it’s something everyone should see.”

I kept rubbing my thumb over the robin, maybe expecting it to somehow spring to life from the beauty of the painting. “...Thanks.” Even in this haze, I can still understand this definitely isn’t me. “I… Wish I was this good at art. You make just the act itself seem deific.”

That curious sparkle glimmered in her eyes again, and she went on like an evangelist preaching the word of art. “Hmmmm….? Really? What do you mean?”

I stopped tracing the red blot, sighing. “You know, painting, and… Stuff. Like this.” I gestured widely around to the half-finished box of sky.

“No  I think you’re already full of art. Art isn’t just painting, or drawing, or sculpting, or writing… It’s anything the children of the stars put a piece of themselves into. A workout, a stone in the wall, or just a little drawing in the mud. You play music, right?”

I paused for a moment, trying to comprehend exactly what she just said- Mouth slightly agape, and a little confusion dulling my eyes- Everything with Angie was slightly spiritual, but also partly irrational.

“Yeah. I’m… Only average, though. There’s a reason Ibuki is the ultimate Musician and not me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? But, from what I heard, the judges were reaaaaly impressed with your performance… And you did audition…” she led on, squishing her cheeks together. “Did you ever consider that maybe Ibuki won because of her popularity, and you lost because of your…. “Other” talent, hmmmm?” 

My drowned self felt its pent up anger boiling, even about a memory she didn’t have. But the self that was acting only sighed and gave a sad chuckle. “You have a weird way of trying to flatter people, Angie.”

“Oh, that was not my intention… Just a few questions. The reason you are not as good at painting or drawing like me is only because your soul doesn’t sing to that medium… It’s a mismatched puzzle piece! It only sings to the things you hold dearest; these paintings are my everything, my island, my childhood, my mother, my stars. Music and killing must be the same to you- I know it.”

That was it- The breaking point. Even this version of me was tensed up now- I could feel every fibre in her body ready to spring. Angie didn’t seem to realize the impact of exactly what she just said, but I definitely just did.

“You think killing… Is an art?” I said quietly, not even bothering to contest killing being important to me.

“Why, of course! You do put a little bit of yourself into your work, right? You are the only one forcing yourself to do it, right?” No, that’s… Wrong. Somehow, even beneath all that noise, I know that’s false.

Despite that, the other me didn’t seem to think so, not becoming any more tightly wound. Instead, she simply said: “I don’t want to talk about this, Angie.” Both quietly, and forcefully. And surprisingly… She listened. A brief moment of disappointment flashed across her face, before returning to that cheshire grin of hers. 

“Alrighty, alrighty, alrighty! If you say so, Makimakonomai!” I could feel my face stretch and smile without my control- I feel like a wax puppet, molded and pulled against my will.

“Thanks, Angie. It’s… Hard to talk about.”

* * *

 

And then, we’re back.

I don’t know how long it’s been, but i’m still here, where it felt like a ghostly cloud of fog was carrying me away. But i’ve moved, my hands resting over…

A robin, suspended forever in the crystal blue sky.

I swallow my spit, hand somehow now shaking. I have survived the world’s most intensive training, killed more people than I can remember- or faces that I can forget- and looked death in her face and spat on it. And now, a painting of a blue sky and some bizarre hallucination are disturbing me this deeply?

I feel pathetic. Weak. Pathetic. Weak. I feel like it's the first week of training all over again, where every little thing reminds me who I was and who i’ve become, where every moment is a conflict between the little orphan girl and the killer, waiting to be made.

I scream and smash my fist into the robin. Despite how small this room is, I can hear my own shrill shriek echoing endlessly.

It sounds like an avian warning cry.

The robin doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t dent. It just watches. Stares.

...I need to stop staring back.

I breathe in, shaky, like an earthquake. Then, like a thunderstorm. Then, like a dying breath. Trying to understand exactly what just happened to me.

In a way, that fake me is who i wish I was. Someone who’s more than a killer, someone who has a purpose, who can control themselves, who acts like a regular person.

I wish I was her.

Everything else is just- I don’t know. Some part of me thinks that was a fever dream, sure. Fantasy created by my broken mind. But the other possibilities aren’t much better.

What have I gotten into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyo!
> 
> It's me. I'm back! Here's Maki. There's... A.. .Bit to talk about here, so let's get into it.
> 
> Firstly I wanna message that a lot this chapter is symbolism and it raises a lot of questions that you don't really get answers to because of the scene with Angie and... Whoever that Maki is. The robin is to Maki as the abyss is to Kyoko, so it's pretty important and means a bunch of things but i'm really not gonna go into those.
> 
> I should probably just mention that the Maki and Angie from the vision are definitely pretty different, but also oddly similar to the ones we know from the game or, in Maki's case, the present. See if you can spot all the weird things each of them do, Maki herself points out a couple- But yeah.
> 
> Talking about Maki's psychological state herself, I can't imagine she's feeling too good about herself. A lot of jokes go around about A: Her being an edgelord and B: Her never really getting real punishment for her actions (Mostly acting like a complete dickbag in chapter 5) But I think she works well enough and I quite like her arc. She's someone who seems on the surface very similar to Kyoko but in actuality she's very different. While Kyoko struggles with even feeling emotions and dealing with the reality that she's a bit of a hollow vessel, Maki struggles with the fact that she feels like a puppet on strings. She's been pushed and pulled around on strings her whole life, and especially during the killing game where she likely feels that almost everything she did was right on Tsumugi's little railroad- Falling in love with Kaito, freaking out in C5- And I think that's really punishment enough for her actions. Sure, she didn't get executed or really persecuted by her classmates or whatever, but I like the 3 ending V3 characters because hey, they all got arcs. Really good arcs, in my opinion, or at least better than most of the arcs in... Previous games.
> 
> And see, that's the problem with having more survivors, like in DR1 or 2. You have some characters who get good arcs, like Hajime, Fuyuhiko, Kyoko, Aoi... And then you have the rejects, who get fuckall to some development like Sonia, Kazuichi, Byakuya, And well... Akane. Yeah, she kinda sticks out as a big fat 0 development.
> 
> I'm somewhat worried i'm sort of regressing these characters in their arcs for the sake of this story, Maki especially, but i'm still trying to make her more forward and trusting. Tell me how that works out.
> 
> Next chapter: Hajime, whooo! And... Someone else?
> 
> "Tell me, Hajime..."
> 
> "Do shadows cast their own shadows?"
> 
> "And do they speak?"


	6. Daily Life 1: Part 4- A reflection with a reflection (Hajime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chaos factor, and the broken vase.

The future is putty, molded easily in my hands. I shape it, I feel it, I encompass it. I feel every branching line and path extending from it.

Or, at least, I did. Now it’s all murky: I only feel like I have dribbling mud in my hands.

But that’s fine. I’ll just keep moving forward.

Forward.

Forward.  
No matter what it takes.

* * *

 

Waking up isn’t quite like I thought it would be; that’s probably popular culture- like the matrix- clouding my expectations, though. I expected some great upheaval, a technological cacophony of lights and crawling code like byte worms wriggling all over my eyes. But instead, it’s all too normal, and maybe a little irregular.

Just a transition, from one world to the next, a blank gap between them that scrambles at the edge of my memory, slithering in the void- A spiny unknowable chittering in the dark.

Now that i’ve experienced and realized such a gap in… Everything, i’ve begun noticing more like it: in random places, and random spaces in all my mind. What do they mean? I’ve got a polka-dotted, dalmation mind, and all the little dots in-between like to hide and pretend they don’t exist: scurrying under rocks like cockroaches.

There are also eyes watching, watching. Red, like two stellar supergiants- crackling with an intelligent energy. I feel like every thought I speak is like speaking out to a massive, yet empty auditorium, my voice echoing endlessly to an audience of one.

There’s so much going on in this head of mine. I used to think it was empty, that it and I was nothing- But now, I realize that there’s a busy city in here, with bustling roads and ideas moving at dizzying speeds. It’s amazing, really; and now it’s even more chaotic and confused, with all this tampering from who-knows-where.

Fuyuhiko’s waiting for me when my eyes flutter open like drifting wings of a butterfly from it’s first flight.

Maybe it’s a bit of an assumption, but I thought i’d be the first, or we’d at least wake together. Instead, seems that Fuyuhiko has gotten a bit of a jump on me.

Of course, I don’t even know how long it’s been since he’s woken, or how long he’s been waiting. But there’s something off about him- i’d expected him to carry that energy we shared in the last trial, the energy of an uncaring attitude of what comes next. Maybe the morbid reminder of what we just experienced would be there in small regard, but still flooded out by more positive things.

Instead, just about every word I could use to describe his expressions were grim in some manner; morose, melancholy, moody… A bitter cocktail of sour regret, swirling and spitting. It just dawns on me that maybe seeing her face again was the catalyst for it all.

I’m almost glad I don’t have to see Nanami’s face again.

“Fuyuhiko?” My voice is rough, grating lightly like sand on stone. He gains that all-too familiar cocky grin when he hears my voice, although that saddening requiem drifting in his eyes is still apparent.

“Hey… Hajime. Been waiting her for you for a little bit; I… Probably had better things to do, but I can’t be asked, right now. There’s already so much to take in.”

I groaned as I pulled myself up in the pod. “How is it?” I gave a comforting smile. “How’s our future?”

The explanation drove on, and on, and on. Just when I thought the situation was at its end, that the words were done and the trials were over, he’d add another clause. Another mile onto this very weary trek. I can’t say i’m looking forward to it, and… Maybe I spoke too soon when I said I wouldn’t have to see her face. Even given the option, I don’t know if i’ll take it just yet. Seeing her sleeping, still like an image captured forever in paint- Well, isn’t that just such a facade on the real, ideal?

But then there’s the question: what of the martyr who returns from the dead? The feelings that I felt would be forever abandoned in those last moments now rise to the surface, and I can’t help but feel that they are necromantic, in a sort of way. In any sane world, grievers do not regress; we don’t find reasons to fall back to our lowest point. But now, Monokuma’s gone and done just that. What kind of sick, twisted experiment is this? Love and kinship forever muddled by grief and guilt that will forevermore be firmly linked.

But we’ll make it through. Make it through even if the world breaks, even if all the rules evaporate just as we already thought they had. Not because we’re ultimates, or because of some “force” like hope- Or anything like that, but because we’ve already been through so much. Our souls have become unyielding, tempered by the forge of a blue flame called true sorrow- flickering with it’s dull edge.

But during the whole talk with Fuyuhiko, all the ups and downs of learning about yet another sudden twist on this winding mountain road- someone was still watching. Listening. The sensation is almost inexplicable: that creeping paranoia; that somehow sixth sense that sets in; eyes on your back, peering into your soul. I’m sure we’ve all felt it, but it drives someone to compulsion. An eerie itch I had to scratch.

I asked a simple question to the phantom machine looming in my mind.

_**“Who are you?”** _

The otherness waited. Fuyuhiko continued, and the reality to this horrible sequel to a game nobody ever asked for was almost finished. The task ahead was terrible, but for now, most of mind was focused on the shallow entity clicking away within it. I could almost feel it’s response formulate from sharp angles and an antithesis of humanity.

_“Izuru.”_

How can one word hold so much weight? No, not even a word, not even a name. A name stolen, given to what remains when man is deleted and all that is left is a machine. Supreme intelligence that is somehow both animal and wholly unnatural.

_**“You should be dead.”** _

_“So should you.”_

I stopped. Stared, for a moment, trying to think up a response to a demon who lived inside my skin, who I once wanted there. Fuyuhiko, now finished, stared back- Looking worried at my lack of a response and face contorted by rage into an almost feral snarl.

“Hajime?”

“Just… Give me a minute. Wait outside, alright?”

He opened his mouth to object, then looked down and nodded. “Stay sharp, buddy. I know this is a lot to take in.” He turned and left.

Izuru wasn’t wrong. After everything I pulled, everything I gave up, i’m so undeserving of this second chance. Who spits in the face of what they’re given so blatantly? Who casts out humanity, and invites a logic so abstract it’s alien?

But i’m here. I’m a dead man walking, with a dead… Something here as well, watching over me like a shadow of my mistakes.

**_“The world has a weird method to it, so i’m here. Maybe god took favor for the unapologetic, or some Karma thought it right.”_ **

_“This has nothing to do with fate, only causality. I was aware what would happen when I offered myself up”_

_**“But you thought you’d be back, right? You looked at the possible outcomes, and thought the shutdown most likely? That’s why you must have done it.”** _

_“No. Self-preservation is a feeble instinct I have transcended past. I do not fear death, not because there is some ultimately meaningless cause I stand behind- But because I realize the pointlessness of delaying the inevitable erasure of an ultimately futile blip on existence.”_

_“My only hunger is to find knowledge which I have yet to find, and I would not be able to enjoy such a knowledge both if I remained “Dead” in a sense, and if I never attempted the experiment in the first place.”_

_**“Then… You were just… Okay with throwing it all away?”** _

_“So were you.”_

It’s a bit hard to fathom that my rebirth of a sort was only because the raincloud who swallowed me let it be so. For the small time I’ve had to think about this all, I’ve thought that it was just an oversight on his part.

But he doesn’t make oversights: that’s one of the few things I can say for sure about him. Everything he’s done he’s seen in advance, and I’m suddenly wondering if he maye even saw all of this absurdity in advance. It makes a lot of sense that he knew about what he’d become again… After all, how could someone like him participate in a killing game?

And I know it’s not true, but it feels like every word he says to me is bitter mockery, tiny wasps in my side. I should know he isn’t even really capable of scorn in any form, a function simply not found in his programming: yet, it always seems that way. Pointing out just how similar we are. Just how flawed my thinking can be.

But flawed thinking is still real, human, thinking- Which is more than he has. But he’s right about exactly how similar we are: scarily so. You would think such a dramatic transformation would raze everything about me, especially those negative quirks which I wished to be rid of in the first place; but through a dramatic twist of fate, he has a few of the shortcomings I did. An oblique pessimism about us, different in form but not in function. My own was a human sort, born of a constant sense of inadequacy: a persistent erosion of confidence, cold wind wearing at a sheer face. His contains nothing of the sort, for how can perfection experience such a thing? Instead, that half-empty viewpoint is alien to its amorphous core, born of a perspective so unbiased it ceases to be a perspective at all, only a bleak statement about reality.

We both were willing to give up everything, ourselves and everyone we knew for things that shouldn’t even be that important. Human, shadow, then back again.

Maybe everyone has someone like him, a inscrutable counterpart lurking, tucked away in shadowy folds of the mind.

_**“If you’re here, why am I here? We shouldn’t co-exist, we’re two opposite ends of a procedure that should have been irreversible, much less… Partially reversible? Aren’t you supposed to be stronger, better…. Even if we’re somehow wedged together, shouldn’t you take precedent?”** _

_“Strength is a poor measure of anything- Too nonspecific. Anyone could argue their strength because of it.”_

_**“Fine. Then, wouldn’t you say you’re more mentally capable than me? You can’t argue with that, can you?”** _

_“Actually, I can. I’ll have you know I studied the very procedure that created me intensively- It was rather boring, and I could have tripled the efficiency and safety of the whole process- but regardless, it wasn’t unlocking some hidden potential of the mind or anything so fantastical. Just allocating resources and space from one function to another.”_

_“Thus, we are absolutely equal in mental capability. Even if you argue for “Talent” or “intellect”, I see no reason why it should grant me priority in this absurd situation.”_

I guess he’s right: I shouldn’t really be arguing with his conclusion that we’re equal, anyways, because that’s exactly what I want to believe. Although it hurts, it's so painfully bitter that even he seems to realize what a huge mistake I made in ever doing this.

_**“Then, what have you been doing? Just… Watching? Staring? You have no idea how eerie it is to feel a presence looming behind you, persistently scrutinizing you.”** _

_“I can surmise some words that would be fitting: Ominous. Foreboding. Sinister. Dire. I can even conjure up a few phrases that evoke such sensation even more so in the mind’s eye: your shadow, slowly unfurling like folds of velvet umbra until it’s monstrous form encompasses everything; Your heartbeat, beginning to beat out of tune, till it’s almost like a maddening carnival tune shrieking within your ears and throbbing through your veins; a scene that changes with every look, but you can’t quite tell the difference.”_

_“But even if these words may come as naturally to me as blood comes to battlefields, they mean naught. Empty, hollow, boring. They mean as much to me as “Red” means to a blind man, or “Peace” means to a warmonger. So you could say that, yes, the reality of your experiences are as alien to I as my thoughts are to you.”_

_“...Ah, but i’ve forgotten the question at hand. You could say that yes, in partiality, I have just been observing you. You are quite… Curious.”_

_“But, remaining with utmost diligence and efficiency- I have also been scrutinizing everything about our situation, and you could say heavily thumbing through your memories and gathering what I can.”_

_**“And that isn’t creepy at all.”** _

_“To me, in the interests of knowledge, privacy is irrelevant. Nothing is more powerful, more potent, than information: it is the distilled aspect of the gods.”_

_**“Alright, fine. You allowed Junko to do all that; I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re fine with digging around in my mind like it’s a public library. Then, bestow your great insight unto me, oh great Izuru.”** _

_“I didn’t know sarcasm was a habit of yours.”_

_**“Do you care?”** _

_“Not especially. And, the results of your killing game and these revelations thereafter have been…. Intriguing.”_

**_“But let me guess… You’re still bored?”_ **

_“Not especially. You could say recent events, alongside the information I have just gained has… Enlightened me, in a way.”_

_“I cannot claim to know all things: after all, I am a child by your standards.”_

It’s… Surprising, to say the least. From those small fragments I remember, what parts of him- Memories and experiences- that crossed the threshold to becoming part of me, he seems in totality of apathy. That quality definitely still exists, but there is somehow something tainting that perfect refusal of everything human. A speck of light in the dark, or dark in the light, depending on the way you see it.

_**“...What is it?”** _

_“You must understand, to the man who knows everything, existence becomes a chore. What’s the point of work? Play? Love? Humanity? You come to see the world as a vast, black canvas, with an artist dotting it with the finest of strokes- Tiny, tiny gaps of light in an existence that welcomes the sheer uniformity of emptiness.”_

_“And within one, tiny, insignificant pixel of those tiny dots of white- Is a small speck of green and blue, so small it might as well be microscopic. And even then, it’s only there for a frame of a constantly flickering and changing painting, redrawn over and over by a creator never satisfied.”_

_“Do you see, now? It’s exceedingly difficult to put the listlessness that clings to me into words, for it is similarly alien to you as your emotions are to me. I cannot impart whatever makes me onto you, just as you cannot impart your humanity onto me.”_

_“I saw and still partially see even this small veil of meaning as a life of lines and circles, patterns upon patterns, as easily read as words on a page. An abstract work of art only in the sense that it seems like one, but holds no meaning in and of itself. What becomes the point of world, known in advance? Of a life, played backwards?”_

_**“Then, if you say all this… What changed?”** _

_“To put it simply… Humanity.”_

_“To begin, they seemed another ticking, winding gear. Forever content in their cycles, their mundane continued existence and recurrent patterns. I could predict every action of any person who walked inside the room they kept me in after the surgery, and even begin to uncover their life with almost perfect accuracy simply based on their manner of speech. I occasionally attempted to, and succeeded in predicting history based on events before it.”_

_“And then, I met Junko.”_

_**“Was she harder to read?”** _

_“Quite the opposite: easier. I’ll get to that, but for as chaotic and eccentric as she may appear to regular folk, her pattern is even more recurrent than that of basic folk. Simply… The advancement of despair, or… Well.”_

_“You could say that Junko manipulated me, but it’s a misuse of the word: I knew what she was attempting, and i’m sure she knew that I did as well. But she managed to attract my attention, in a gruesome deathly display of sadistic sport meant only to “Entertain” me. I’ll spare you the details, not because I particularly care for your mental health but because they happen to be irrelevant; but in the heat of a rising crimson storm of bloodshed and steel, betrayals and fear coating more space than blood, a soon to be corpse made an action that I didn’t predict in the slightest.”_

_“She told me that only through chaos can my endless tedium be lessened, about the ripple of despair in fragile minds. My belief was never absolute, and… I learned very soon the error of her logic. First, in another instance- this time, in a last moment of hope, a clinging to symbols and faith in a time where such things mean nothing, where I experienced the same occurrence.”_

_“Then, with her plan completed and I only participatory in the loosest sense, the world was overturned into despair, and as she would say- Chaos. The kind of chaos that should alleviate my ailment.”_

_**“Sounds like it didn’t.”** _

_“No, it didn’t. There were a few moments, a few moments where I saw that spark of chaos again in a world ruled by rules. And then it disappeared, a flame blinking in the night. The violence and anarchy became yet another tedium, the actions of rioting masses plainly predictable.”_

  
_“Then, at a crossroads, I decided to determine once and for all which side of the coin could create that chaos, which could be called more powerful- In a sense.”_

_**“And?”** _

_“I was incorrect, for once: Junko as well. I saw humanity as a boorish cycle, brutish, nasty, and short; but in truth humans are the only system that can cause the chaos I seek. It is not hope, nor despair: but both. The entire spectrum of human emotions.”_

_“Life without them is static. Life comes, life goes. Planets form, mountains rise, stars fuse elements. Humans are a chaos factor: if existence were to split into multiple worlds with each action, they would be the ungrateful arbiters of that fission. Although they may seem as static as the tides and birds around them at first glance, the true incomprehensible anarchy of the human spirit becomes visible once life is at a climax.”_

_“Junko was searching for this chaos, as I was: she observed it in climax of despair, but by creating the tragedy…. She accomplished nothing. If all of life is a climax of sorts, a fight for survival, an opportunity for the most wicked and blessed shards of a soul to emerge- It is no longer a climax.”_

_“You are an example of this: in the heat of a climax, you accomplished the impossible.”_

_**“You saw that memory, then? What do you think of that?”** _

It was a little smug, trying to boast over the literal embodiment of my failures as an individual: but I can’t say it’s unjustified. He was one of the people who put me into that situation, and he must have thought he had every outcome prepared for. Knowing that I defied all expectations is… Quite the fulfilling feeling. It makes me feel that I’m somehow superior to this god of a man.

_“...There contains within you an uncanny power, a striking inconsistency that prevails throughout your character. Think of men who could fell gods, think of ideas that could topple empires, think of a world defined by its smallest part.”_

_“That is you. You are the embodiment of what it means to be human, an average ordinary yet extraordinary. Achievements gained only through will, grit, and pluck- No talent or shortcuts.”_

_**“...That’s… Flattering.”** _

_“Tell me, Hajime. Do shadows have shadows?”_

_“And do they speak?”_

_“....What kind of question is that? When did you get all philosophical?”_

_“I suppose when I realized that is all there is left to ponder. Many mysteries are unobtainable to even I, but none so perplexing as this: I suppose it is partly the view of an outsider looking in. I am a contradiction, just as you are.”_

_“Now that we have seen another world behind the one we thought our own, is there another, even farther in the reach of inscrutability? If we have broken free of the chains and seen what had cast the shadow, is that only the shadow of another shadow?”_

_“And furthermore, what am I, if only a construct from an already partial being?”_

_**“...You’re calling me “Partial”?”** _

_“Is a shirt, sewn back together, still the same? Is a vase, broken into shards and then glued to the same shape still that vase? Of course, but there will always be losses. Cracks in the vase, stitches in the shirt. Do you think you’re any different?”_

_“Retrieving data from the edge of annihilation is no easy task- Although in a computer program, it is not so much totally destroyed as overwritten, pieces will me missing. Approximations that will be filled in by a “Good Enough” Substitute.”_

_“So Hajime, you are not the martyr who gave up his life and body for myself to inhabit. You are his shadow, made from whatever pieces survived erasure and… Something else. Made to think as well as it can that it’s the same.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this uh... Placeholder lasted longer than it should have, huh? A lot of procrastination, and I also kinda just forgot about it, but here we are.
> 
> First of all, if you like my writing style, go ahead and check out my newest fic, Sapphire redemption! It's about Kaede, Rantaro, and Tsumugi- and I think you'll like it! It's in no way a replacement for sleeping dead, and we'll actually see all three of those characters *eventually* in sleeping dead, but it's a bit of a different story and the characters will end up different from their situation.
> 
> Talking about Hajime, and... Well, Izuru. I do like the combination that happens at the end of SRD2, but it ends up becoming less interesting for the kind of narration and introspection I like to do. It's a great symbol of Hajime finally becoming content with himself, but at the same time its not Hajime AND Izuru, more just like... Hajime with one red eye. And besides, I never felt that Izuru was ever even a part of Hajime... I feel like Hajime just gaining control suits it better, but whatever. I'm generally a fan of this kind of "Mental Backseat gamer" Since it allows for some great dialogue and such.
> 
> I consider Izuru to be the "Ultimate Nihilist", in a way. Although he cant truly experience a lot of the emotions that bring on Nihilism, such as hopelessness, the pure apathy and boredom he feels resonates quite well with it. He's a nihilist not from despair, but simply from cold analysis of the facts- And yeah, the universe, at face value, is pretty bleak and meaningless: it seems personally reasonable that someone without human faith or emotion would simply see it as so.
> 
> The two do occupy a sort of Yin-yang.... Izuru is talent without potential, and Hajime is potential without talent. Hajime is capable of so much more just because of his belief, his willpower, and his resolve... Whilst Izuru has all of the talent and capability and the world but doesn't have anything like enough belief or resolve to pull off some of the stuff Hajime does.
> 
> Hajime's probably my... Fourth? Favorite protagonist, behind Komaru, Shuichi, and Kaede. You could probably argue Kaede *Doesn't* Count, since we only play as her for a chapter, but her death has enough far-reaching impacts on the story and that first chapter is REALLY important for the entirety of the rest of V3, so yeah, she's a protag in my books.
> 
> It's not that Hajime is... Bad. His arc is fine, and there's some interesting storytelling you can tell about him. He's certainly better than Makoto, who almost needs a complete face lift in order to actually be fairly interesting. Don't get me wrong, he's a good egg, but don't be surprised if he's quite different than you see him in-game. He'll be similar enough that it's recognizable sure, but... Definitely different. Than again, that's pretty much what i've done with most of these other characters... Even if the changes will be quite a bit more minor.
> 
> Keep in mind that my nonexistent tier list I keep randomly mentioning is pretty much entirely based on the quality of stories you can tell with a character... I typically don't rate characters by personality, or even by how well they were handled in the game... Just if they're a good base for storytelling. And... Usually, a character ends up moving up a couple tiers every single time I write for them. Maybe its just the process of trying to get into their head, but i've had such a greater respect for Maki, Sonia and Himiko after writing for them.
> 
> The only "trash tier" characters would probably be characters like Hagakure who... Have pretty much no place in a serious fic such as this, let's be honest.


	7. Daily life 1: Part 5- Companionship in odd places (Kazuichi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuichi makes a new friend, and gets thoroughly soaked in the rain while doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Just a quick announcement, I have two chapters of a new DR fic out... Sapphire Redemption! It focuses on Kaede and Rantaro, as well as eventually Tsumugi... A lot of grief, inner conflict, the good stuff. If you like my writing style here, you should check it out!
> 
> Alright, now onto everyone's favorite shark mechanic man.

This place is something else.

I don’t think anyone else has even begun to see the scale of this tightly contained system of a living space. It’s… Compact, Efficient, and awe-striking. It must have cost millions of dollars to build…

While everyone else is busy wondering about more common mysteries- Kyoko, Shuichi- Even people like Sonia and Fuyuhiko finding all they can, i’m just dying to tear this place apart and see what it’s made of. I feel like there’s unmeasurable energy pulsing just beneath my feet, like waves of sheer potential washing back and forth between bays of machinery. Because, after all- The energy cost for this place must be massive. So much lighting, so much heating and cooling, to keep three classes comfortable in a bunker for potentially years. I’ll have to really thoroughly investigate the power generation later.

I’d rather spend all my time learning how this place works, and seeing if there’s any way I can improve upon it or learn from it- Than endlessly contemplate everything else that seems to be cascading down, a torrent of confusion around me. I already tried, and it began to leave me in shambles- There’s no logic, no method to any of it. It seems to be a situation born of pure chaos in every aspect, random muddlings of information and situations.

What’s more, there’s not one- But two hangars in this place. I haven’t even entered the second, because that much mechanical eye-candy might be overwhelming, like a sugar rush for grease monkeys- But the first contains all sorts of planes: it gives me a bit of nostalgia for the first couple I ended up working on.

It’s a bit unbelievable, that we’d be afforded such an easy method of escape- You’d think the engines would be removed, like in the game, but they’re here- And run just fine. It was one of the first things I tested. But from what everyone else has told me, it doesn’t exactly matter how easy “Escape” might be- Because we’re bound here by a more nonliteral type of imprisonment. It’s not to say that any of the killed mean the world to me, but i’m not going to just leave them here- Or let everyone else down, for that matter. I know how much they mean to them.

Still, though- I’d imagine we could still take one of them out for a spin, as long as we returned with any sense of brevity. Might be useful for scouting, or just… Getting a little bit of stress off your shoulders, because although this place isn’t exactly claustrophobic, and all the rooms and hallways are even larger than my measly little apartment back home… It’s not exactly comforting to know there’s enough mass above your head to bury you and kill you instantly. Not that being in a plane is much better, knowing all the dangers too well- But at least then, any failures are my own fault.

Not that i’m even airworthy in the first place. Maintaining such a complicated piece of machinery and actually flying it are two very different things, and even if it's nice to have the perspective of an actual user, I… Think my anxiety would probably get the better of me in the air. And for that matter, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to fly me, either, so… I guess i'm landlocked, for now: that’s a pretty good analogy for our situation in general, actually.

But it gives me something to do, and if anyone else actually knows how to fly the damn thing i’m sure they’ll appreciate it- Once they actually know it exists, that is. None of our talents exactly scream of piloting skills, but miss Sonia probably has such a varied skill set that she learned it at one point or another- Plus, her country’s bizarre education and all.

It didn’t take much maintenance, and it was more checkup than anything- They were in incredibly good condition, probably thanks to the hangar, but it's still surprising that it seems like someone like me could have touched them just yesterday, from how pristine the condition is.

There was all sorts of the things in here, although all fairly small in size- Even a few with combat capabilities, and weapons are one of the few things I actually don’t feel comfortable running my greasy hands all over (Although I was still quite familiar with the model and mechanisms) I moved from each elegant aircraft to another, about twenty in total, like a busy worker bee- Getting lost in a haze of electric air and greasy hair. Time ran as quickly as oil through my fingers or one cycle of a machine, as I ran on autopilot and let all the mounting stress slip away….

I was knocked out of my machine trance by a sudden, overbearing sound- The sensual sound of a mounting system of mechanics moving something massive. I paused, wrench in hand- Before pushing myself out from under the chassis and following my eyes to my ears to locate the source of the sound.

The hangar doors were slowly sliding open, causing a dramatic and quite artistic effect- I was never that good at anything like that, but even I can tell when something is just so visually stunning that your eyes gobble it up like candy, maybe just from watching a few too many action movies. The dim comfort of the hangar was slowly flooded with the blue-gray blend of bleary skies, and alone against the rapidly expanding stretch of roiling, stone-gray horizon was a single silhouette, darkened by the stark contrast and made somewhat minute from the distance between us.

I stared, confused at this mystery figure, and what exactly they were doing; they had no reason to be down here- well, to be fair, I had no reason to be down here either, fiddling with machines I already knew were perfectly fine- but still! Who do they think they are, Opening the hangar door, standing there…

And then, as the door finally almost completely opened and that dark gray gloom finally gobbled up most of my vision, whoever it was walked into the downpour, to the point I could only faintly see them from within the muck.

My mouth hanging open, I shook my head and sighed as my curiosity ripped control away from me and I marched out of the hangar doors, and into the malevolent monsoon.

The water droplets had a conniving chill to them, as they cratered closely on my skin- forming a layer that stung me tight like an abusive embrace. Usually, I was used to a warmer, more snug type of temperature- The comfortable cradling of running machinery and grease, where sweat would coat my skin instead of nipping cold water, and i’d feel comfortable. It was my home- even if most people would find it gross beyond belief.

It didn’t help that the muggy heat of Jabberwock had been my hell of a home for the past week or so, and now this change in climate made me remember what it even meant to feel cold. In the physical sense, anyways: I was very familiar with the more emotional, conceptual type that seemed to reverberate in your mind and heart… And it stayed longer than any slight chill ever would.

Outside the hangar doors was a runway, it’s concrete construction matching the straight plane of gray- almost black- sky above, and made slick with the tiny, chilly needles of water. It stretched on so far into the turbulent sea on both sides that it seemed to be narrowing straight into the horizon, focusing on a single vanishing point that must be a little gray dot, churning at the center of it all.

Now that I was closer, I could get a better look at the figure- As they meandered off to the right, sitting on the edge of the runway platform with their legs dangling riskily close to the twisting cauldron of foaming seawater and spiny stones just a few small breaths below. So close, in fact, that the sharp waves would occasionally heave up and completely engulf their feet, completely soaking them with a frigid saltwater.

They wore red clothing, the poppy color muddled by the ever present cyclical system pouring down on us- and with the brown hair and suntanned skin, I soon came to realize exactly who it was- Aoi.

I didn’t know much about her, but I at least knew something- Which was wholly more than the three secluded and shrouded enigmas who spoke a lot of nonsense- nonsense that still managed to sow sharp seeds of doubt into my mind. I knew the synopsis of her game, and some basic trivia- but that was about it.

It’s not like I really cared to investigate her, either, with the overwhelming amount of new survivors to be aware of: all of whom could be liars, traitors, or just… Generally untrustworthy…. The only thing I want to be is alone right now, yet life has dumped even more lost souls, like malfunctioning machines- Right on me, right after I had just learned to accept the few i’d been with in the game.

I briefly considered turning back and just leaving her, already considering the multitude of things that could go horribly wrong if I talked to her- Before shaking my head, making up my mind, and tapping her on her shoulder.

“Hey. Umm…. Aoi.” I mumbled awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.  
What are you doing out here, exactly? Just uh… Sitting?” I scratched the back of my head as rain rolled off it. “In the pouring cold rain… On the edge of a runway…. Above a churning ocean….”

She turned, giving a surprised, although cheerful smile, and chuckling. “Oh! Hey… Kazuichi?” She said inquisitively, clearly not quite sure of my name. “Well, I guess i’m just.. Enjoying the weather, you know: this rain is really nice.”

I raised an eyebrow, tempted to blatantly call out how much of a loon she was sounding like, before deciding against it. “You can enjoy the rain from inside, you know. Windows are a thing, and it’s kind of… Wet and cold out here.”

She laughed and shrugged, as another wave crashed against her feet and I winced, imagining the chill of her soggy feet- While she seemed to notice nothing. “Well, that wouldn’t be the full experience, would it? Just like it’s not enough to only see photos of somewhere and never actually go there, or it’s better to go to a concert than listen to recordings. It’s not just about one or two senses, or even the senses at all: you have to have all of them in harmony to get that unique atmosphere, and the context and point of your life along with it will make it something truly worth remembering.”

“Seeing this storm is one thing,” She continued, gazing up towards the unrelenting heavens. “But feeling it all- The cold slickness on my skin, and this grim chorus of thunder, all after everything else I experienced today… Well, that’s probably something i’ll never forget. The way all these emotions and sensations deftly stir together is just… One of a kind, you know?”

She seemed sensational, passionate about taking even these moments and making them into something she could hopefully look back upon fondly. It was admirable, but still… Completely cryptic to me… I guess we just think differently.

“Well that’s… An interesting way of looking at it, I guess. But uh… I’d rather just be inside, honestly. So… If you’re just going to chill out here for a while, can you come back inside soon? I really don’t want to be responsible for leaving you out here and possibly getting hurt or something.” I fidgeted uncomfortably as the waves loudly crashed again, like a symbol in this orchestra of a grim sky.  
“Well, I was thinking of going swimming... “ She laughed playfully, as I became flabbergasted and red in the face- The constant annoyance of this dread rain not helping my confusion.

“...Swimming? Are you serious? You’re talking about inside, right? There’s a lap pool, or something?” She shook her head, still grinning playfully. “Are you crazy? There’s.. All those rocks, and the water’s probably freezing if the rain is anything to go by… And who knows if there’s sharks or…” I caught myself, blushing in embarrassment as she burst out with a guffaw, and I gritted my teeth slightly from the mockery.

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry!” She fit in between giggles, the sunshine smile only growing wider. “I just can’t help wanting to joke around with you, with reactions like that….” She trailed off, before her jovial mood tapered off and she became neutral again. “I’m serious about wanting to go swimming out here, though. It’s not even the most dangerous place i’ve swum!” She gave a huge, crescent grin, like she was boasting about her suicidal tendencies.

“Seriously?” I gaped in disbelief, voice flat and unamused. “You aren’t just trying to pull more of a reaction out of me?”

  
“No, no, of course not! I’m not that committed to jokes, you know: it’s not worth possibly upsetting someone.” She chuckled. “It’s true: i’ve done a lot of what you just mentioned… Swum with sharks, in turbulent and rocky waters… All sorts of dangerous things.”

“But… Why?” I asked, running the confounding words over in my mind and trying to understand the motive. “No one was forcing you to, and it’s not like one of the prerequisites for becoming the best of the best is doing stuff like that: you just need to beat everyone else, right? I wouldn’t really know, since mechanics isn’t exactly a competitive field, and I mostly got here by inadvertently helping some people with a lot of power… But still! Why do something like that? Why risk it all, to possibly die, or… Well… Even if you don’t even care about dying! Why risk your reputation, to be known as someone who lost their life or career over senseless thrill-seeking, just for those same cheap thrills?” I pointed my finger accusingly. “Don’t you know how many people would give up everything to be you? The risk… The risk just isn’t worth it.”

“Well, you know, Kazuichi…” She smirked, lifting out each of her arms to either side, as if to completely bask in the rain. “You assumed it was for the thrills… And I have to admit, you’re partially right. And you say it isn’t worth the risk… But when you look at everything logically, a lot of the best things in life aren’t worth the risk, right?” Wistfulness twinkled across her eyes. “I know you might not get this, because like you said… You aren’t exactly… “Competing with anyone.”- But the truth is, being at the top is lonely, and… Honestly kind of boring.” She seemed a little sad, now- Staring out into the waves.

“When you start, you feel like you’re on this great journey with every other athlete, but as you climb… Everyone falls, one by one. There’s less and less room as you climb to the top, and when you reach the peak… Well, it’s only you. It feels like everyone below you doesn’t see you as a fellow competitor anymore, but just another goal to attain or a target to beat…. And those feelings only get worse the larger the gap is between you and everyone else.”

“When it got like that for me… Things started to get… Tedious. The spirit and pride I gained through competition was dulling, as nobody seemed motivated enough to beat me anymore… All I could do is keep training against myself, and keep trying to beat my personal bests.

“So you did blatantly brazen things.” I said, unconvinced.

“If you want to look at it that way: but why I really did it was that swimming became monotonous, and I didn’t have the goal to become the best anymore… Because I was always the best. So I did things I hadn’t before, and that was enough to make things lively again- until someone might challenge me.”

I shook my head. “Yeah… To me, that’s just weird, so I guess we just have different gears turning up there. The monotony isn’t so bad to me… It’s nice, actually. Safe, comfortable.. Who wants something that can change on a whim?”

“I do.” She smirked. “Life’s not about doing the same thing over and over again- besides, imagine if people were like that! Stagnant, boring… What makes them so great is just how varied even one person can be!”

“Honestly? I’d like it if people were just like machines- If you knew what to expect, knew that someone would never betray you.. When you’re talking about a machine, it’ll always do what you think it will, unless it’s broken. And if it is… You’ll know how to fix it.” I pulled down my hat and let the ambient shadows fill into my face. “People aren’t like that.”

She opened her mouth to respond, before casting her eyes down and closing it. “That’s why you’re here, right?” I continued, narrowing my eyes slightly. “You went on about the rain and swimming, and all that… But I heard from Fuyuhiko that something was going on with you and Kyoko, like there was this invisible tension while you two were in the same room. You may say you’re here for one reason or another- But I think you’re here just because you wanted to be alone, because of whatever happened between you two… And for that matter, everything else that’s happened today. It’s nothing to be ashamed of… Actually, I was out here for much the same reason, minus heading out into the rain: but I’d appreciate it if you were honest with me.”

“Yeah, yeah… You’re right.” She murmured sheepishly, hugging herself as the rain slowly crept down her face. “I wasn’t really lying, though: those were partly true, too. But it helps to have a cathartic atmosphere like this to sort through your feeling, although Toko would probably tell me I know nothing about “Atmosphere” and go on some long-winded tangent”

She suddenly perked up, and a new energy flowed through her.” But you’re wrong, though! People aren’t just chaotic beings who can betray you on a whim, and it wouldn’t be better if they were just like machines. I’m not here because I feel like Kyoko betrayed my trust or anything like that… I’m here because i’m worried about her, and I want to sort out exactly how to help- I just… Don’t know how right now.”

“Help her?” I questioned. “From what i’ve seen, she’s the most capable and hardened person here- Why would she need it from you?”

“Nobody is that tough, Kazuichi- We both know the kinds of stuff she went through. Do you really think anyone can make it out of that unscathed, no matter the defenses they have?” She appeared frustrated, now: balling up her fists and tightening her jaw. “The problem is that SHE thinks she’s invincible, or that she’s not allowed to feel the same things as us. Maybe it’s not to cause trouble, or to try to carry the group on her back… But it just feels selfish, because it just makes me worry about her all the more. Not once… Not ONCE during that entire game did she open up to me or anyone else, besides maybe Makoto… And even then, it couldn’t have been much. She has to understand that we can’t get through this if she just bottles up everything and keeps it to herself!”

Now I was the one feeling out of place and a bit dejected, awed at her fervent passion and a bit disappointed in my own lack of resolve and belief in not just others, but in myself. “...Swimming’s how you take your mind off of things, right?” I thought for a moment. “...Come on. Let’s head inside, i’ll do my best to swim with you for a bit, and try to work this out with you.”

I clutched a fist and stared intensely into it. “...I’m probably the last person you should talk to about this, but I think I want to change. Maybe not because that’s what I want for myself, but because I feel like it’s necessary: i’m not even close to trusting all these new people, but for what it’s worth… I do want to try to help the friends i’ve made in that game, and myself, too.”

She gave a heartwarming smile that managed to cut through the murk and cold. “I’d like that, Kazuichi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kazuichi is.... Well, Kazuichi. I've talked about the phenomenon before wherein every time I write for a character I learn to like that character a little more, and that definitely is true for Kazuichi. He's your token "Comic relief character who probably shouldn't have survived" (Along with Himiko and Hiro) But unlike Hiro he... Actually has a character. Sorry for all you Hiro fans out there (If you exist)
> 
> His character mostly revolves around a sense of distrust and social awkwardness, which I tried to play up in this chapter. I really liked his wish for humans to be more like machines- To me, for someone mechanically-minded like Kazuichi, it makes a lot of sense. It's also why I ended up choosing Aoi for this chapter's supporting character, since she acts as a pretty good foil- Optimistic, emotional... Athletic (lul)
> 
> As for Aoi, she's a victim of "DR1 syndrome" where she ends up generally being VASTLY underdeveloped compared to the DR2 or NDRV3 cast. She ends up getting the long end of the stick, so to speak, since she also gets featured in DR3 (As much as that's worth) And gets more development than everyone who dies, but she doesn't have nearly as much to work with as Kyoko or Toko, who are IMO easily the best DR1 characters simply just because they actually get DEVELOPMENT (yus) So I had to improvise quite a bit... But I think it turned out fairly well. Her thoughts on competition were based on conversations i've had from friends of mine who are REALLY good at cross country, to the point where they end up outpacing the rest of the team and feelings like these begin to appear.
> 
> Sorry for the wait, I got... Sidetracked. Not only with Sapphire Redemption (Which you should totally check out, by the way! It's not really even about Kaemugi) But with a few other DR-related projects that may not even ever see the light of day. One of them is a talentswap AU that doesn't involve a killing game featuring Maki the ultimate anthropologist and Nagito the ultimate explorer as a dynamic duo of sorts, and another happens to be a fic including Rantaro's sisters, an older V3 cast, and... Other stuff. If it ever gets published, it'll be closely tied to this fic.
> 
> As per usual, gimmie dem comments! Nothing brightens my day more than seeing them, even if they happen to be (Very fair) criticism... Just the fact that you spent enough time to write up anything means a lot to me!


	8. Daily life 1: Part 6- The Red Door (Shuichi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The witch, the eye, and the water's shadow.

Maybe the hardest part of this whole thing is just trying to relax.

Because there is no danger, right? For now, at least. The sky has cleared of a broiling crimson turmoil, leaving only crumbling gray, like skyward stone ruins… Even if we are in the beast’s dean, it seems the bear has decided we are no longer prey… But playthings.

If an attack is lurking in the shadows, covered by a thin veil of gossamer umbra- ...It’s not like i’m the most suited to discovering it, anyways. I’m not the most vigilant anymore, and I can’t call myself the best detective now that Kyoko is here… So why is there any reason I shouldn’t ease into a less tense mood? Let this anxiety that feels like it’s about to burst release, and finally spare some much needed moments to grieve.

But I can’t. Not that I even don’t want to.. I’m perfectly aware of the mountains of stress that must be piled and piled atop me, ready to crush me the moment this emotional adrenaline wears off- A tiny little man holding a sky of broken glass on his back.

It’s just that… The anxiety, and the paranoia… It pulses and ebbs, a nebulous cloud of electric smoke that both mutes and energizes the senses. I can’t seem to be rid of this eel wrapped around my mind- It seems like a switch jammed into the “on” position, and it never helps that my mind thinks too much about everything.

Some may claim there’s no such thing as an excess of thought… But I disagree wholeheartedly. It’s always been a problem for me… Just one thought can lead to a towering waterfall of questions and no answers that spills out of control as my mind goes haywire. I’ll space out for minutes at a time, and each question only leads to a little more stress, a little more tension.

It was already hard to control, requiring ferocious willpower to snap out of a stupor. But now… With so much to contemplate, with so many memories, so much guilt, and creeping anxiety... I cannot act. I am trapped in my own head, unable to make changes for the better and feeling as if I’m still in the game.

It is a parasite, a tumor- Feasting off my fear. I feel like the world will crash and fall upon me any moment, as a mounting sense of dread only grows stronger with each calm moment, rather than being quelled. It always feels like misfortune is around the corner like I’m only seconds from the next announcement.

Except nothing is coming.

And I know it- I’m perfectly aware of this schism in my mind, how illogical it seems and how self-destructive it is… But it’s not like there’s anything I can do about it. These thoughts crawl and climb together entirely on their own, based only on instinct and memory, the little traces of that pitiful person I was.

So because of all this… When Maki disappeared, I could only expect the worst.

She’d been missing since about midday- Not that I even knew for sure that it was midday. Time seems to warp and twist like spiral lines churning into a numeral whirlpool every moment I’m left alone in this confusing new world, my thoughts like a fog clouding all my senses. It’s darker now, at least: so that’s something, not that it’s much of a difference from the cloudy overcast earlier.

She’d disappeared even from comms, and that’s when I started to worry. It was always the same in the game: someone missing at breakfast, someone breaking their routine… A few eerie signs, shifty eyes, till one became none- One less, and the prophecy is fulfilled.

That doubt, fear… The inkling about her safety only grew stronger, nagging in the back of my mind. I ignored it while I could, exploring with Himiko and meeting who I could, but it spread slowly, from my amygdala to every corner of my mind.

If anyone, surely Maki could handle herself: trained assassin, cold heart, heavy mind. She could take on the world… In the beginning, it was just physical strength, but now- she had grown an emotional and moral tenacity, and in my heart, I knew she was safe.

In my mind, though… Was a different story.

It had only been hours, but it only took minutes for my life to be changed forever, pulled from one grueling emotional marathon into another. While I walked and talked, the symptoms of my ulcer of thoughts spread into the physical- Trembling hands, darting eyes, and spells of staring into the distance.

Himiko noticed: At first, it was just a concerned glance or two in my direction, then an active attempt to distract me from my musings… And then, she finally addressed it directly.

* * *

 

We were lounging in the… Well, lounge, a small room on each floor meant to grab a snack without heading all the way to the kitchen- And just to generally relax. Each one was themed after and presumably owned by an ultimate… And this one was Himiko’s.

I expected something marvelous and fantastical, but it was surprisingly genteel and classical.. Styled like a traditional theater: with black, gleaming walls, and red accents in ornate curtains or patterns. Comfortable furniture was arranged to face a small stage, and was nestled at the back that I noted didn’t actually stock anything but juice and soda….

Of course, it wouldn’t be Himiko’s without a little phantasmal influence here and there. A sprinkling of glitter across the black ceiling, making it seem like a veil of stars above our heads- Events that would seemingly happen at random, like doves bursting from curtains or flowers appearing in a vase, and various framed old-timey magician ads.

At the time, I was lost in thought… Just imagining what could have caused her to suddenly disappear. All the possibilities… The good, the bad… How every little assumption led to another, and another… My clockwork mind running overtime to try to know everything.

“...Shuichi.” Himiko said softly but forcefully, snapping me out of my daze.

“Huh? Yes, Himiko?”

“You were staring again.” She mumbled. “At the wall.”

“Oh, well…” I laughed, a little embarrassed. “I just got a little lost in thought, I guess.”

“...A little?” She pointed accusingly. “You’ve been in and out of it for a few hours… That “Little” spell you just had lasted for a few minutes.”

“I guess I just look track of time… But it’s not something you have to worry about, Himiko. I’ll try not to space out again.”

“....Shuichi…” She sighed. “I don’t really care if you space out on me: you should know that. We’ve just been talking pretty casually since you woke, and your behavior has only gotten more and more erratic: I want to know what’s bothering you, even if you think it’s irrational or not worth my time, because if it’s bothering you… It is worth my time. I might not have experience with this kind of situation or… Talking with people in general, but what I do know is that something like what we went through makes you think differently…. And I know because I’m going through it, too… Not the same, but just enough to know what kind of thoughts you’re thinking, from that long stare and those swirling eyes.”

I chuckled sadly. “You got me, Himiko: Maybe some of that magic lets you see into hearts or minds, huh?” She smiled wistfully at that. “I’m just… Worried about Maki. I know in my heart that she must be okay… After all, she’s a whole lot more capable than we are, and part of my mind understands that, too. But I just.. Can’t stop thinking about it. One thought leads to another, as I imagine another possibility, I try to take my mind off it- but this worry clings to me like smoke, and there’s just about nothing I can do to be rid of it.”

She shrugged. “Then maybe you should just… Check up on her, and obey those thoughts. You think too much… Even about, well, thinking too much… And although that’s part of what makes you great, and a lot smarter than Maki or me… It means you hesitate and doubt and doubt. I’m simple in comparison: when I get an urge or a thought, I usually just act on it without questioning it too much; but you have to question everything, and always hesitate. When we first met, I thought you were just weak… But really, it takes a certain kind of strength to always question yourself in the search for what’s right. So…” She gave a very wide smile and made an energetic pose. “Just this once, be a little bit more like me, and just… Act. And I’ll try to be a little bit more like you.”

“Are you coming with me to look for her?”

“Oh, well… No.” She mumbled, covering her face with her hate. “There’s… Someone I need to talk to.”

I was already wondering who exactly she needed to speak to, considering just how isolated we were from the other groups, but it wasn’t really my place to know or ask- so I simply nodded, standing from my chair.

“Stay safe, alright?” She beamed. “Go out there and find our Maki Roll.”

I smiled back, rubbing my head somewhat awkwardly. “You too… I hope your talk goes well, whatever it may be.”

Her expression suddenly turned a little darker, almost like little umbra raindrops dripping from her hat. “...Yeah…”

* * *

 

My thoughts only intensified as I checked the most likely places- The pod room (taking a moment to just… See Kaede again while I was there), Dining Hall, a few of the lounges…

But somehow, having someone tell me to do something helped me push past some of the bitter chatterings of my musings, the feelings of my idiocy from this irrational paranoia, and the little worry that I might walk into another crime scene.

Maybe that’s why I loved her so much, despite knowing her for so little time. She could inspire me like no one else, and what few words she said pushed me all the way through the game and still help me now. Even Himiko and Maki, my sisters in arms in this fight, cannot fight away my inner rainclouds as she could.

The hallways in this place were long, and only seemed to grow longer with every step- and it was deeply dark outside, and it only seemed to grow darker. The rain still hadn’t let up, now tiny little shadows against the fading light… The difference between the dusk headlands outside and this bright and somewhat sterile environment inside was awe-inspiring, provoking not just a wonder at nature and her implements- the brutality and harsh reality to it all- But also a fluttering feeling of safety and comfort, knowing that I am on the inside staring out- Rather than the opposite.

As night had truly begun to lace its tender and sinewy claws around us, I took the stairs- Considering even approaching the elevator began to lace little pinpricks of panic in my mind- up to housing, and set about looking for her there.

The door to her room was… Dark, fittingly so: but also containing an interjection of flair and personality that was surprising, but also not out of place for her. The guitar and lettering spoke almost to a Latin style, perhaps complimenting the ever-present themes of art and death that whispered around her like grieving dead.

I raised my hand to knock, doing my best to push out the creeping dread inside me, and the ever-present feeling that my world would once again be stained red. I knocked… And the door creaked open from the shallow force.

The paranoia, that insistent gnawing at the back of my mind, only grew louder and louder, as I tentatively stepped inside. Maki didn’t seem like the kind of person to be so careless as to leave her door ajar…

The room… Wasn’t what I expected, but fit her nonetheless- in a certain abstract sort of way. I wouldn’t call her a sunny sky, but... The color blue seemed to work well to fit her, maybe even better than the stark red strung around her and stained deeply into her skin: it made me briefly wonder what she would look like in a deep blue, the color of the ocean.

There were signs of someone cleaning up, some clutter moved and dust disturbed- But the fact there even was something to clean up in the first place was very intriguing. It told a tale of somewhere lived and subsequently abandoned… Which was a troubling thought indeed? It suggested a life lived but not remembered, of memories, moment, and melodies lost to a hungry, oceanic abyss. It chills the mind to ponder, for it only takes a few words to change the course of a life…

I think all of us know that the best out of anyone, because I can only imagine how different I would be if I hadn’t heard her voice, like the most bittersweet requiem, played softly on the notes of the stars.

Then, what about a month of moments? Years? A lifetime? ...If another “You” existed before you then what are you?

Sure, this isn’t exactly the first time we’ve been told we aren’t the first version of ourselves… But that… The stranger who Tsumugi said I was is more like a completely different person wearing the same face. The thought of it still brought an unearthly chill to my clockwork mind, freezing those gears in their place… But this was different.

Because whoever this “Maki” was.. She seemed more eerily similar than her doppelganger from the game ever could be. Like staring into a reflection, with only the slightest gleam in the eyes different between you two… Someone just similar enough that you can question whether they do a better job at being you than you ever could.

How could I tell? It was just the little things, little habits I picked up from Maki that the ghost of her past seemed to share. The orderly, yet somehow messy way everything was organized, the kinds of decorations…. Even for me, it was noticeable, so… I can’t imagine how it must have been for her. Feeling lost in an echo chamber of deja vu, almost but not quite reaching an understanding just out of your reach… Your mind filling in the blanks, imagining vividly the day to day life of someone you never were.

...There, again. The thoughts have gotten to me. Just thinking, thinking, standing here. Lost in my mind’s misty grove; valuable time, sinking into the mud below the willows.

And even thinking about thinking may chain me.

Finally acting, I called out into the room. “...Maki? Maki!?”

The words echoed soundlessly, but there was no response.

I knew rationally it didn’t mean much, but that doesn’t mean much when the mind acts of its own accord…

Choking down some of my spit, I swallowed my embarrassment at intruding and slowly entered, checking each room.

The kitchen- A little messy, with evidence of recent eating- Just a little rice, apparently, but nothing unusual. The walls are painted differently from the last room, like a cloudy sky rather than a summer clear one.

The bedroom- It looks like just about everything here has been rummaged through, with drawers open and a few things misplaced- But not enough to be unusual. The room is quite warm and comfortable, sporting soft reds and oranges everywhere- The walls painted like a sunset. And it was…

Stunning. A rouge, swirling canvas, with exquisite details and an influence that soaked hearty tranquility into the room, while still having an odd somberness to it that clung like cold water on your skin. The setting sun itself was the focal point, quite large and projecting a crimson aura that…

Almost looked like a door. I stared in awe at the thing for a moment, before shaking my head and moving on.

Bathroom- I didn’t stay long, but it looked like she had changed- and taken a towel.

Relief spilled into me like warm water filling a vessel- I had found nothing suspicious, and although I hadn’t found her yet, I had a decent idea of where she was: and a reason why I couldn’t find her, for she was in the last place I would have thought to check.

The pool.

I hadn’t thought of Maki to be the kind of person who would go swimming for anything but training, and it’s not like she would find right now to be a good time to do so- She seemed quite fervent in her goal to search the place, top to bottom. Although she didn’t talk much over comms, Sonia and Kyoko revealed that information was constantly relayed between the three of them- Until she stopped, only about halfway into the search. I didn’t expect the reason to be because she had suddenly decided to swim… But I was relieved, not only for obvious reasons, but because it seemed like she had finally decided to relax a bit.

That is, if my hunch is even correct.

* * *

 

Sure enough, after enough sets of stairs to thoroughly wind me- I found her. Listlessly floating in the center of the recreational pool in an inner tube, staring up at the ceiling, and the blankest look on her face.

She drifted aimlessly, spinning in slow circles with her hand hung halfway into the lukewarm water. Blue lights under the surface cast a cool glow around her, shining through her inner tube and casting nebulous projections on the ceiling- She seemed like a ghostly river spirit, drifting in and out of reality.

“...Maki. I didn’t expect to see you here.” I said, relief clearly shining through my voice.

For a moment, she didn’t respond- the sloshing of the water awkwardly filling the silence- before she replied quietly while sighing.

“I didn’t expect to see me here either, honestly.” Her voice sounded strained- The side of her that I could always tell was just under the surface, but that I saw only in the silvery light of this blue moon- Or the crimson shadow of a bloodmoon.

“Well…” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “What are you even doing here?”

“Floating.” She deadpanned, continuing to stare upwards: actually, she hadn’t so much as glanced over at me this whole time.

I chuckled wearily. “Come on, Maki; you know what I meant. You don’t just float out in the middle of a pool often, right?”

“...Yeah. You’re right.” She murmured, swirling her hand and pushing herself along slightly. “I guess I just… Needed to relax. Get away from all the people, all the little hints of a life I never lived, and the one I actually did.” Her voice was.. Tentative. She seemed very uncomfortable talking about this- you could hear it thrumming behind her voice, like an untuned guitar string.

“..I’m not disturbing you, am I?” She paused her hand, before tensing it slightly.

“...Kind of: You do remind me of… All that happened. But that's not all bad, and part of the reason I decided on a whim to do this was so I could… Think about, and sort through all this unnecessary garbage rattling around in my mind. So… I don’t really mind, I guess.” She continued tensing and relaxing her hand in rhythmic patterns, her powerful muscles clearly visible. “I just don’t know why you’re down here in the first place.”

I let out a short, slightly embarrassed laugh. “I thought it was obvious: I was looking for you.”

“...Why, though?” She questioned, confused and slightly suspicious.

“...Well, I was, uh…” I blushed, remembering exactly how irrational the impulse that led me here was in the first place. “I was worried about you.”

She blinked once. Twice. Seemingly quite flabbergasted at my response. “...I’m not sure whether to be insulted or flattered. You have to realize i’m the last person who would get themselves killed, especially in just a few hours… I’m not going to assume you’re an idiot, Shuichi. You’re one of the few people I can spare that privilege to.”

“Yeah, yeah. Trust me, it’s something I know all too well, and I debated internally quite a lot. But… You know, there were a lot of really capable people in the game, people who I thought would never get themselves in any danger either… But all it took was a few minutes. I hate to doubt your ability, but… It’s really not that. Even if I knew, it never hurts to be sure… Right?”

She let another long silence draw by, and I briefly considered seeing myself out before she spoke up again. “...Yeah- You’re right. I guess I just… Haven’t had someone who’s willing to do something like that in a while. Even if it is kind of stupid, and born out of some kind of paranoia… IT’s nice that you didn’t think that i’m just… Able to handle everything on my own.”

I smiled, still feeling a bit stupid (especially since she hadn’t looked away form the ceiling this whole time) But relieved that she understood… And happy that she was being a little more open than usual. “Well, part of it definitely was wondering if monokuma had lied about something and you were in danger… But you’re right that part of it was also that I was worried about you emotionally. No one can deny that what we went through affected us dramatically, and I haven’t gotten a chance to speak to you about it since we woke.. Actually, I’d argue that no one really has, since you refused to really say anything substantial to Himiko. You aren’t a statue, you know- You can’t just act like these things don’t affect you, and I especially won't let you try and ignore them for our sake. Nobody says you have to say every little thing, and I get you aren’t exactly used to this- But I care about you too much to keep letting you do this to yourself.”

Suddenly, my anxiety and embarrassment were gone- All that was left was a compassionate determination. “There was a time where i’d keep quiet because i’d assume you knew better then me, but part of what Kaede taught me is that a lot of times, everyone but you might know what’s best for you.”

She held her hand above her, reaching out- like she was clawing at the sky. “Don’t you know how hard it is, Shuichi? Don’t you know? In initiation, they didn’t just condition us to ignore our emotions… They made us feel like there was no one you could ever reach out to, that anything you’d ever say would just be exploited and driven into your heart. You’d think that all of us orphans would band together, all facing the same evil, with the same kind of troubles… But no, they made us turn on each other like dogs. We were incentivized to turn each other in if we even tried to talk to each other… They didn’t even need cameras, because we did it all for them. I’m disgusted that I was a part of the problem, that I ratted out the same people who were going through the exact same things as me… And I did it because I was weak and scared, and I thought they’d do the same to me. And you know what? I was the best at it. I was the model student, the A+ assassin who broke first and did anything they said, because I was so, so weak.” The change in her voice was small, but still extremely noticeable: it was mournful, like she was watching poppies spring over her own grave.

“Who knows what would have happened if I was strong, and stuck to my ideals… Maybe less of us would have cracked, and something could have been done. But at the very least, I would still be myself, and not who they wanted me to be… Not a machine in a dead girl’s corpse.”

“Maki…” I said, as comforting as I could. “Why… Why’d you suddenly tell me all this?”

“I guess…” She seemed at a loss for words, clenching both her hands into tight fists. “I just wanted you to know… Wanted you to know why i’m like this: Why I can’t talk about what i’m feeling without assuming it’ll be turned against me to stab me in the back, because there’s absolutely no reason any normal person should be as broken as me.”

I gave a sad, hollow laugh “Look around, Maki: you’re surrounded by souls of broken glass, barely held together by super glue and duct tape. A lot of the people here would say you’re probably the least broken by how you’ve acted, and the straight face you always have. I don’t think what you’ve gone through and done, or who you’ve become in any way makes you broken or… Any lesser than the person you once were. Tell, does the fact you’re telling me all of this or that you can admit your shortcomings make you “Weak?” No, no it doesn’t. The fact that you can tell me when you’ve gone wrong or made mistakes is what makes you stronger than you think, maybe even stronger than the people you consider “Normal” or “Not broken”, even if they are anything but. Maki, you can’t let everything in your past haunt you forever.”

“Shuichi, I don’t even know what my past is anymore. Who _is_ Maki? Is she the child from the orphanage, or the killer? Is she Tsumugi’s story, or the person who came before it? Or is she whoever lived here, the girl who played the guitar and acted like a normal person for once? How am I supposed to find out who I am, who I want to be… Who i’m supposed to be when I not only have all these people meddling around in my mind like it’s putty, but so many different lives that i’ve lived, that I don’t know if i’ve lived, or don’t even remember living. Who am I, Shiuchi? **_Who am I?_** ” She was angry, not at me but at the world for its confounding deception and probably herself for the strength she perceived as weakness.

I smiled. “You’re Maki Harukawa: what that means is what you make of it. But to me, Maki means devotion, fearlessness, and passion; but also intelligence, reason, and understanding. The bold, the honest, and the dedicated. Everyone didn’t just choose to let you lead because they were scared of you: I think everyone here is done with being shoved around. They let you lead because you seem capable, because you took the initiative and made a statement. I can’t tell you who you are, who you want to be, or who you should be… I can't tell you who you which life you lived is the “True” one. But what I can say is that the Maki in front of me right now is the Maki I want to be with, because I can trust you with the world and know you’ll carry it on your shoulders, or place my life in your hands and know you’ll protect me from even the fires of hell. I trust you, Maki: I trust you with all my heart.”

Her skyward expression was locked in a melancholic contemplation, misty eyes filled with chilly snowdrops. The next time she spoke, her voice was quiet: almost drowned out by the sloshing of the water. “You’re an idiot, Shuichi: The last people to say something like that are dead by my hands, either literally or because I couldn’t save them: and you know this… You’re heard and seen what i’ve done. Yet, you trust and comfort a killer. Why? I can’t see any version of myself doing the same.” She let out a hard and forced laugh. “Despite everything that’s happened today, the most unbelievable thing is how you all have acted towards me.”

“See, you think that a “Killer” is all you are… That the word stains and taints your soul, black sin creeping in your heart. I can’t speak for everyone, but I know that when HImiko and I think of you, “Killer” isn’t what comes to mind… When I think of you, it’s about the best things I know you’ve done, not the worst. One of the things Kaede taught me was that your mistakes don’t define you, at least to the people who really care… And that’s all that really matters, right? The black, the dark, and the worst will always exist, and they’ll do their best to convince you they’re the only thing that does… But there’s always light, always a blue sky after that red night.

Her entire body tensed after I said “Blue sky”, waves of energy rippling across every muscle like liquid electricity… And suddenly, I regretted bringing it up. “...So you’ve seen it, then.” She muttered slowly, voice drawn out in self-inflicted agony. “I realized I had left the door open, but I couldn’t be bothered to so much as lift a finger. My entire body feels dead and lethargic, not only because of this level of unfitness I haven’t felt since… Those days, but because it seems each emotional sucker punch knocks more out of me than a bullet or a marathon would. I feel so selfish, so useless even stopping for a moment when there’s always, always work to do and the only moment I should ever really lie still are sleep and death.”

She slammed a closed fist hard into her thigh. “You know, Angie was the one who painted it… That sky? Although, I don’t know if we can even call her Angie, because she isn’t our Angie. And well, I don’t even know if the flashback I had was real… Hell, how can I know if anything is real anymore? This is Kokichi’s wet dream, a world where lies and truth blur together and nothing even matters anymore because it can all be fake. You’ll say what’s truth and what’s lies doesn’t matter so long as they matter to you- But none of this even relates to me. It’s no longer fake memories of a fake past fitting snugly into my mind, but these mismatched and broken pieces that make absolutely no sense. Just… Just tell me, Shuichi. How am I… How am I supposed to deal with any of this?”

“Maki… This isn’t you talking, it isn’t you: it’s them. I don’t know what they put you through or molded you into exactly, but what I do know is that you couldn’t have lost all of you, or you wouldn’t even be speaking with me right now. That feeling that you should never rest, that the world might stop if you do and that relaxation is greedy or lazy… They put that in your mind, Maki: you finally have the chance to rest, so please… Take it. And i know you want me to tell you how to feel, how to get through this… But I cant… I cant. You have to figure this out for yourself, because you’ve had people meddling in parts of your mind all your life, and now it's easy to be lost without a guiding force: But I can't be that person for you. I care too much, and know too little.”

She scoffed. “You think too much: And i’ll never know if your rambling insight is just confusion, or if your exponential pondering can show you every little part of the world. Some part of me want to be angry, because you’re dodging my questions and some could consider what answers you do give mere platitudes.. But I think there’s a whole lot more to your words than someone like Makoto could ever give, because you’ve been where I have, seen and heard what I have: and i’m not just talking about the game. Fine, then: if it’s time for me to relax, maybe we should pull this conversation away from me just splurging all my unnecessary faults out to you. So… How is it out there? Every moment before this, i’ve felt useless just laying here, always considering getting up and starting again. But maybe now, i’ll just… Stay a little longer.”

“It’s been, well… Just about what you’d think it would be. Blank Faces, dead eyes and strained smiles that show the fallen along their cracked lines. New souls trickling in, with somber new stories and complections you know you’ve seen before, somewhere.. Maybe in a dream, and whose group treats with a complex mixture of companionship and suspicion. Compared to the other groups, ours seems so isolated, three against far more who seem to have experienced far less… But still, somehow, I think we’ll manage to get past it all.” I rambled, staring out at the rippling reflections with Maki.”

“...You know, Shuichi, I was thinking I would keep this to myself, but… I think I need your mind on this. So… It’s time for me to show you the red door.”

* * *

 

I had a feeling she was talking about her room- The one set into the sunset on her wall. And sure enough, that’s where she told me we were going, after she had changed.

Maybe the most interesting thing was that, rather than changing back into her usual, red-tinted attire, she changed into cool blue shorts and a loose fitting shirt.

She noticed the odd look I gave her, and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have much of my usual style in the closet… And besides, it’s not like i’m limited to only wearing red and black, right?”

“It’s just… A little odd, seeing you in blue. Not bad, just… Different. Somehow fitting, in a way.” I mused, having a little difficulty putting my feelings into words.

Her eyes were unfocused, and she seemed trapped in hazy swirling waters of memory. “...Thanks, I guess.”

We silently walked to the elevators, where we stopped and stood for a moment- a spring of anxiety jumping into my mind from even the sight of the things.

Glancing over at me, Maki drew her lips into a long, thin line.

“...Maybe we should take the stairs.”

* * *

 

She moved awkwardly around her apartment, stepping gingerly like she could upset the very nature of the past if her movement was just a little off. We made our way to the red door set into the sunset on her wall- Just barely visible, so you doubted whether it was there at all.

She gave every little object a long glance as we walked, wonder and misery twinkling aimlessly like dewdrops behind her eyes.

When we finally made it to the door, her expression told of a life she had seen killed before her eyes.

“I’ve been having these… Flashbacks, I Guess you could say… Although I don’t really want to call them that if I don’t even know if they are real- They could very well just be mad delusions or another lie. I had one in the living room, about that painted sky… And…” She stepped forward, tracing her hands along the barely noticeable outline, like red chalk drawn around a body.

“And… One here. This door… This door…” She gritted her teeth forcefully, worming her fingers underneath a hidden catch as the “door” shifted open, revealing a hidden room beyond.

It was small, simply containing a mannequin with a long, hooded cloak over it, a few rifles and crossbows and a photo hung on the wall.

The cloak reminded me of her red hood attire… But, unlike that bloodstained garment, it was white, with a checkerboard bandana…

Exactly like something Kokichi would wear.

And in that photo… Maki, Kokichi, and Kyoko were all wearing similar uniforms, with the logo “D.I.C.E.” at the top.

...How can the past twist, turn, and worm… In such unexpected ways as this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thoughts coming soon! Don't have time atm.


	9. Daily life 1: Part 6- The visitor, and the Supper (Makoto)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi talks to Makoto for a private one-on-one meeting, and everyone has their first dinner together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Personal stuff, and I got a little addicted to hearthstone. I hope you guys are still here!
> 
> Maybe not the most interesting chapter, but I enjoyed writing for something a little more... Mundane.

I’ve always felt a little bit distanced from all the other students in my class.

That was something everyone felt, I'm sure, in the game- After all, it’s hard not to when there’s a very present feeling that everyone might be out to get you. But, I mean… It wasn’t just that. Maybe it was the feeling that I just seemed out of place, amongst the superstars and wacky characters straight out of some TV show or anime. And, well- now that i’ve started, albeit slowly, regaining memories from my actual school experience, the feeling only really intensified.

But it's also just that we seem to think differently. Maybe it’s just that I never had as much to lose as them, or still held onto some childish innocence, like Kyoko would say… Because I never really was pulled into the emotional highs or lows they were. Sure, I got sad, or mad, or…Happy. But never enough, never as much. Profoundly neutral, I guess.

It helps me look forward, helps me keep going. And, because I've always been like this- Just, normal, I guess, I really can't understand how they’re feeling. Sure, I feel sympathy, and.. There’s a bit of understanding, but I don’t I'll ever experience what they have.

See, right now- Everyone is in a sullen and slow mood. Even the most motivated and active people still seem scared, and so very scarred- And sure, I feel the pain, too. Those we’ve lost, and the unfairness of having to bid for their lives in this silly game. But is it that much? Not really. I’m having fun, actually, meeting these new people even if their eyes tell long stories.

Is that what it means to be the ultimate hope?

* * *

 

Aoi woke me up, and we talked for a while, but she seemed stuck in the past- looking back, ignoring the light ahead. I offered what help I could, but eventually we just… Parted ways. I’m sure we’ll talk later, but I couldn’t help but feel that all we were doing was getting in each others way- She needed to figure out how she felt, how’d she would proceed forward… And I needed to figure out what even what I was supposed to be doing right now.

It seems funny, how small my thoughts and contemplation seems to everyone else’s, but I suppose every shed needs a dullest tool, right? And I'm glad to be that- besides, it means I'm able to do some things nobody else here can.

Like think less about what did happen, and more about what we can make happen, and pay more attention to the world outside my mind than the one within.

I haven’t talked with Kyoko yet, although I'm looking forward to it- we’re both weirdos, compared to the rest, so she always makes me feel a little more comfortable. Which is a bit ironic, considering how cold other people would say she is, but I would say they just can’t see how warm she really is.

So, i’m just lounging around in my room, for the moment. Everything here is… Weird, not like anything I would ever live in. Sure, it seems like something the average high schooler would have in their room, but it's… Just that. Almost feels like it was made just for the purpose of appearing that way.

Huh, with speculation like that, maybe I can ask Kyoko to be her Watson someday?

Hah, not likely.

I sang a little upbeat ditty in my head, and then a knock came on the door.

I wondered who it could be, hoping a little bit that it was Kyoko- But, knowing she probably wouldn’t seek me out directly unless she had something important to tell me. But no, it was the other detective- Weird, how the talents are doubled up- The boy Aoi called somber, but also wholly determined- Which is a weird, but decisive mix.

Shuichi. A pleasant little name.

She said he wore a classic detective’s outfit, but didn’t seem to be in one at the moment- Just a far more casual jeans and pink t-shirt, and a satchel at his side.

“Hello, Makoto.” He said formally, looking over me with the kind of eyes Kyoko did- Eyes that could see past a fleshy veil.”I have a few questions for you, if you’d… Mind answering them.”

I laughed a little bit, smiling widely- He gave the slightest tug of his lips in return, more than Kyoko would but still, reserved. “Questions, huh? I’m not investigated for anything, am I?”

“No, from what I've heard, you’re… Probably the last person who’d try anything. And that’s coming from Kyoko, probably one of the people who is the most suspicious of people I know, and Maki- Who so much as glanced at you and said you were harmless. These are just that- Questions. Kyoko’s not the sort of person who likes to deal with people, and any conversation she would have with you probably would be among friends rather than inquisitorial in nature, so I'm… Picking up her slack, so to speak. Comparing testimonies, and just… Trying to get a general read on everyone’s personalities, and how they’re feeling. Some of this might not seem too important, but it’s good to be thorough, right? Even the smallest little detail can have a world of meaning.”

“I get what you mean- I did my fair share of detective work with Kyoko back in the game, although I always got the feeling I was just the best partner she could find in our motley crew. Well, come on in. Can’t say this is anything like my house would be back home, but… It’s good enough until I find the time to redecorate.”

We walked in, and he trailed over everything with that inquisitive eye- His mind seemed to move at a thousand thoughts per seconds, and I felt a bit daft, like comparing a flip phone to a supercomputer. But they both have their uses, I suppose.

We sat, and I got him a drink- Just water, he said. He was formal about all of this, keeping a guard up- But as time went on, he relaxed it. Because, well- He could probably see that I wasn’t any real threat.

We sat face to face, and he began with strong confidence, only a little bit of anxiety present in how his fingers nervously shifted. It was different from Kyoko- Hers was very much self-assured, almost cocky- but the way he handled himself was like someone you could trust. Someone who knows how to keep a secret, and yet know when’s the right time to tell it.

“I think before we get into any too serious of discussions, about- Your side of the game, it’s probably best to get a good read on how you’re feeling. I’m no therapist, but I've had some psychology training to deal with grieving victims- And besides, it’s fairly obvious that we shouldn’t be discussing anything that might cause you distress. You seem cheerful enough, but I’ve seen a lot of facades, especially in the last couple of weeks-” His eyes became unfocused for a moment, a contemplative and inquisitive gleam briefly flashing in them. “-No matter how fake they may have been. For that reason, let's be honest with one another, alright? Lies have their place. Just- Not here.”

I laughed- After all, both he and I knew nothing was going on with me. He was telling me something it seemed like he had prepared to tell all of us, although I appreciated the effort. Kyoko would just get to the point and extract what information she could as fast as she could- But he was… More gentle. They probably both have their place in the investigative world (Although I don’t know much about it besides what she taught me back at hope’s peak, and what i’ve seen through pop culture)

I sure am comparing the two a lot, but I just…. Can’t help it. So much of our identities in the game were simply based on our titles… People were forced to try to live up to them, change themselves to try to fit into a shadow the world cast upon them, or hated what could be their greatest asset simply for what it had done to them. So seeing someone with the same talent as someone I'm so close to, and yet be so different is… Intriguing. Makes me wonder what another lucky student would look like, although that’d be a bit redundant- I’m sure they’d just be as bland as me, anyways.

In many ways, I could see the two being a sort of buddy cop duo- It really fits. Each with their strengths, each with their flaws, working together to solve mysteries, and at the end of the day learn to appreciate one another better. It’s just a shame they have to meet under circumstances like these….

“Right. I’m not a very good liar, anyways- You can ask Kyoko. In all honesty, like you said- I’m feeling pretty good about all this. Makes me feel a bit… I don’t know. Selfish? Like I’m somehow taking their pain for granted by being like this, but I really can't help it. At the end of the game, there was this upwelling of hope, the feeling that we could keep moving forward- And now, it seems like we’ve taken a few steps backward. We’ve been dragged back down into a somber hell.” I darted my eyes around the room, feeling a bit uncomfortable keeping eye contact with Shuichi’s understanding, but steadfast gaze. “Funny how even with the chance of seeing the dead again, we’ve lost a lot of resolve.”

He nodded, digging around in his satchel until he came out with a notepad and pen, flicking through the pages until finding one and beginning to quickly scribble something down. “You’ve heard of the five stages of grief, right? It’s… Become pretty popular in tropes, but who knows what kind of tiny things could be different from each of our games.”

“Yeah. Yeah I have.” I replied, trying to remember them off the top of my head. “Denial, Bargaining, Anger, Depression… And acceptance, right?”

He smiled a tiny bit. “Yeah, seems our worlds- Or at least the trivial stuff, might not be so different after all. It’s an interesting way to represent human emotions, but people always get it wrong.. It’s more of a guideline than anything, and the creator even said they don’t have to be in that exact order, but people always seem to write it that way anyways. In the same way that maybe depression can come before anger- Maybe there’s more to it after acceptance. It’s not so easy to just get over something, and even if it leaves your mind for the moment it might just take the smallest reminder to send you back a stage or two for a little while.” His eyes drifted slowly to the ceiling.

“I remember- there was a case I couldn’t crack- a kidnapping, and before we could find who did it the victim was killed. I felt terrible- Broken, destroyed for a month or so, even if it wasn’t really my job anyways… At the time, I was just an amateur with a few cases under my belt, but I felt responsible nonetheless. I got over it, eventually… Or maybe just forgot for a while. But it’d come back into my mind every so often, from a reminder or maybe just from how wildly my thoughts churn and wind. I’d slip back into a spell, then- But it was shorter every time. There’s a cycle within the cycle, and even if this is all bogus and they’re gone for good- we’ll get through this eventually. Time doesn’t heal all wounds- But maybe those sands of glass cover it just enough for us to forget it and move on, for a time.”

I grinned. “Well said! You know, ever since my classmates gave me the title of “Ultimate Hope”... I’ve been seeing it more in other people than I ever could myself, and this is what I mean. With words like that- And not just platitudes, but the knowledge and experience behind them, you could inspire people.”

He stared longingly into the distance- Maybe wistfully thinking about what someone else might do. “I think you’re misinterpreting this, Makoto. What I just said… Not everyone would take it like you do: My eulogy might have been vaguely hopeful, but it had as much reality in it as anything else. I don’t know what your classmates saw in you to give you that title, and I haven’t known you for long enough to make my own deliberations… But all I have to say is that sometimes, people need someone who gives them a dumb pipe dream born out of naive optimism-” He opened his mouth to continue, before glancing over to me and wincing. “No offense, by the way.”

“None taken…” I muttered, a little dejected.

“Because people are stupid, and stubborn, and hypocritical, really; sometimes, you don’t need the truth, or anything real to inspire someone, you need someone so annoyingly hopeful that they beat a little bit of that naive optimism into you, little by little.” He fiddled with his shirt. “I… Couldn’t do that. I know someone who could, or… Knew…. I don’t know anymore. All I can see is reality. The reason you see all these people as a better hope than you are is because you can see that light in them: because you can become inspired by their words.”

“....” I stared at the ground.

He bit his lip, giving me a concerned look. “I’m sorry. Did I insult you?”

“No, no…” I gave a reassuring smile, just in case. “I’m just… Thinking over what you said. I’m not a super genius like most of the people here, you know.”

  
He smiled, genuine and pleasant but tuned with a chord of emptiness. “For what it’s worth, I wish you were in our game, Makoto… We could have used your words. I can’t imagine what you and… Her would be like together.”

I wondered about this “Her”... But didn’t press him about it. “Well, how are we going to talk about the game. Should I just give a rundown of what happened, shortform, or ...?”

  
He suddenly perked up, eyes full of energy and more thoughts than their gleaming surface could hold. “I have the basic picture- The most important details. I’d just like to know anything that you might want to add that my other informants may not have known or shared.”

  
“Ah. Alright.” I began. “Well… There was a time, near the end of the game, when Kyoko and I were separated from the rest of the group. I was supposed to be executed for a murder I didn’t commit, but I was saved at the last moment… And Kyoko came to rescue me. We talked for a while, a lot of personal stuff on our way back…”

He stared down at his paper, before scribbling with his pen for a few seconds. “That… Matches up fairly well.”

  
“With what?”

“There’s… Similarities, between all three games. A structure to it. The cases, the killers, the motives ...”

I stared. “...What are you trying to say?”

“Not much. Just that… There’s a pattern we might have been… Pushed into. If my game’s explanation hadn’t been debunked already, that would explain it, but I think… The mastermind… Although I hate to use that word… Probably had a motive for setting things up this way. Each game beyond the first has its own explanation for why this is, but together… It’s a bit more intriguing.”

He sighed. “Of course, this doesn’t mean much. But… I think we can assume that whoever is behind this probably knew enough about each of us before the games to be able to manipulate us at least somewhat to get the results they wanted. Now, why they would even want a consistent schedule between the three…. I don’t know. It makes sense to fake continuity between the games, but ...”

“Maybe they just wanted us to have similar experiences?” I thought out loud.

“....” Shuichi paused, milling it over. “That… Right. Yeah, that could work. He did say this was his endgame, what he was leading to after the games… Part of the experiment might be seeing just how similar, yet different groups interact with one another.” He chewed on the end of his pen. “I do… Have a thought though. A fairly troubling one.”

“What is it?”

“How did… How did we all make it through this? Thinking about this logically, at least… One of the games should have gone south. From what I've heard about the cases, just a few different coincidences here or there and the game might be over before it even begins. If their intent was to have all three groups here and this isn’t all just a string of huge luck… How could they have engineered that? I could argue that they manipulated evidence and circumstance to an extent, but there are things they couldn’t control that had to go exactly right for everyone to survive in the end.”

I shrugged. “Good question…. But I think you’re asking the wrong person.”

….

 

* * *

 

  
Time rolled by, and by. I wandered around the facility, seeing what I could and being amazed at the scale of this thing- Even Hope’s Peak had been a little ridiculous compared to what I was used to, so something like this was simply absurd. Every amenity you could possibly want- Well, almost. Aoi mentioned how they didn’t exactly have any way to supply fresh donuts, which was expected.

I passed people now and then, but they kept conversations curt- Just a lot of small talk, and even I could tell now wasn’t the time to try to get any of these people to open up a bit more. Still no sign of Kyoko…

I passed Maki in the hall.

And wow… She was scary. I’m not one to judge someone for their talent, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt, and of course I would never expect her to actually be dangerous for anyone. But just the way she… Handled herself was off putting, an aura of authority and bristling tension. Knives for eyes, bullets for words. That being said, it almost made me feel… Comfortable, that I had someone like that backing me up. Who knew having an assassin in your company could make you feel so safe?

I smiled politely and waved- I was wandering around the end of the athletics wing, where the more mundane talent labs, or as far as they get- Like Tennis Pro, or baseball star… Tapered off into more dangerous, but still pretty awesome to think about ones. Akido master, Martial artist… I recognized some of these, but it was astounding the sheer amount and spread of talents that had somehow been gathered here, across different worlds, different stories… Saddening, really. Like the game, I just wish I had met these amazing people under better conditions.

Soon, the hallway winded- And at the end of it was a metal grate, like the one you might see in malls after stores were closed, blocking off the rest. And… I came face to face with Maki, it becoming just so embarrassingly short I was, even compared to her.

“Why are you here.” She said simply- Quietly, but forcefully. Clearly not meant to threaten, but still intimidating. Weird how people like her can pull off that meanargie of emotions so perfectly.

“I, umm…” I stumbled with my words a bit, glancing down at the floor so I wouldn’t have to keep eye contact with her startling red eyes. “Just exploring.”

“....Do you know where you are?” It didn’t seem meant as an insult- More as an actual question, but man, it sure felt like one.

“Err… yeah. The combat section, right? I kind of just wanted to check out all the different talents there were, since I only know about a third.”

She crossed her arms, lightening her gaze and breaking eye contact- Staring over my shoulder, mouth twisting into an expression of perplexion. “That grate behind me leads to the assassin and soldier labs- As well as an armory, if you have the necessary credentials to get in. I know its… A little silly to be here guarding it, but...:”

“I understand!” I offered, smiling and reaching up to place my hand on her shoulder. “You must have seen a lot of blood.”

She stared at my hand on her shoulder, before slowly pushing it off. Her complection seemed twisted and strained, a little bit of anger swirling in her eyes while she gritted her teeth and tried to fight it off. I opened my mouth to apologize, realizing how what I just said could have upset her- Before she quickly walked around me, leaving me to just stare at her back.

She kept walking, before stopping in place- Maybe remembering something. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She shuffled her hand around in her pockets for a bit, before retrieving a smartphone- Then turning and tossing it to me. “Communication. Everyone’s going to be meeting up for dinner soon, don’t be late.” I fumbled desperately to catch it, not wanting to look like a complete idiot- Before finally pressing it against myself to stop it from falling.

She walked a few more steps before stopping again- Just for a moment. “And… Sorry. For the chilly introduction. There’s no reason for me to be like that anymore.”

* * *

 

The next few minutes were underwhelming, just a little more wandering- Before my new phone buzzed and a text from Maki called me to dinner.

I had been in the dining hall before, on my little exploration attempt of this massive complex, even with all the areas locked off to me- But it had seemed a little… Sad, before. Somewhere that you’d always expect at least one person to be lounging or chatting in, that just felt so… Empty. And the roiling seas and brewing storm outside didn’t exactly help, either.

But now? Sure, it was quiet. People exactly weren’t chatting up a storm, but there was an… Energy here, that felt so good to be around. People at least being people, not miserable morsels of melancholy, people talking to one another, having fun. It reminded me of the first couple of days of the game, where it was less about the threat of impending danger and more about meeting all these new people, getting to know them and maybe becoming friends whenever we got out. I couldn’t help but compare this image of these motley survivors with the first one of all my classmates at the same table, forever burned into my mind.

Of course, it wasn’t quite that happy- People were still scarred. Burned, and the divide between everyone was clearly present. But… Not quite in the way I’d expect. Kyoko, Maki, and Sonia were sitting together- And no room for me, either, unfortunately. Kazuichi, Fuyuhiko and Hajime were clustered in their own little group, while Himiko and Shuichi were sitting with Aoi, the lone member of my group… Maybe just to comfort her, since she had no classmates to sit by for the moment.

Maki’s group of leaders were a bit more serious than the rest, but Sonia seemed a welcome addition to the duo of Kyoko and Maki- Far more cheerful, and I could actually see Kyoko and Maki smiling at some of the things she said. Hajime and his group in comparison were uproarious, laughing and having a great time- But I can’t imagine it came out of anything but trying to forget the situation they were in, unfortunately.

And finally, the group i’d be joining. Shuichi and Himiko were sitting close together- Almost like they were subconsciously ready to protect the other at any moment. And they talked with a warmth to their words towards Aoi, but it was still a little forced: It was clearly visible these were just strangers thrown together.

I hobbled myself together a meager meal of non perishables, before sitting down right next to Aoi.

“and look who it is….” Himiko muttered out. “magical wonder boy himself! from the stories I've heard about you, you would be a fitting apprentice to me! your superb death-defying stunts and moments of unrivaled charisma would be a welcome addition to my show!”

“I…Um…” I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. “Don’t think I'd be a great magician. That “Death-defying stunt” You’re talking about only happened once, and it was completely on accident! Besides, my… “Charisma”, if you can even call it that, isn’t really fit for show business.”

Aoi laughed. “Oh come on, give it a try, Makoto! What’s the worst it’s going to do? Kill you?”

“Probably, yeah. I’d imagine my career would be over the moment Himiko tried any… “Death-defying” stunts on me.” I traced a finger across my neck. “Knowing my terrible luck.”

Shuichi shook his head. “What makes you say that? You are the… Ultimate lucky student, after all.”

  
“Well, a title is just a title, you know? Sure, I got admitted to hope’s peak- But look at where that got me.” I shrugged. “Although… I don’t really know what any of that even means anymore.”

Shuichi glanced around at everyone's faces, before quickly changing the subject. “Alright, but being admitted to the killing game meant you escaped the tragedy, right? And Aoi was saying you were probably the reason all of you guys even made it out of there in one piece.”

As I opened my mouth to protest, Aoi beamed and spoke up. “It’s true! He was practically our knight in shining armor.”

“Ok, that’s taking it a bit too far.” I argued. “I was only kind of okay with you guys calling me “Ultimate Hope.” That’s just ridiculous.”

  
“Ultimate Knight?” Shuichi raised an eyebrow, grinning.

“Oh come on, you too?!”

“It’s decided, then!” Himiko declared triumphantly, whimsically pointing at me. “You, the luckiest knight of this realm, shall be my assistant, and your luck shall be your sword!”

I slumped down in my seat, defeated, staring at my food. “I guess there’s no arguing, now…”

“It’ll be good to have ways to…” He stared off into the turbulent storm, shadowed by the darkened swirls of night. “Distract us, at least: I think performances would be a good way, considering a few of us have talents that could work, and there’s even an entire theater down there- Way to big for all of us, but I guess it’s the atmosphere more than anything. Most of the real performance talents are still sleeping, but it's not like your talent has to be related to do something entertaining- Even I have ideas on something I could do.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Shuichi!” Aoi grinned. “I could set up a swimming competition!”

“....Only if you disqualify Maki and yourself.” Shuichi clarified slowly. “We need this to be at least slightly fair.”

“...Ok, I get Aoi. That’s… Kind of her thing.” I said. “But why Maki?”

Shuichi and Himiko stared at me, prompting me to avert my eyes from their gaze. “She’s, uh…” Shuichi began carefully. “Very physically fit. And her… “Training” was also partially aquatic based.”

“Maki’s awesome.” Himiko agreed, waving her arms with each word she spoke. “She could probably swim faster than Aoi.”

“Woaaaah now!” Aoi suddenly interjected. “I’ll believe it when I see it. She could have amazing experience and training, and I'd still beat her.” Her voice suddenly lost a little bit of confidence. “Not to sound cocky, but… That’s kind of my thing, you know?”

“And donuts?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Hey! That doesn’t count!” She pouted, lightly pushing me, “That’d be like calling you the ultimate ahoge kid.”

  
“I… Don’t think I qualify for that anymore, regardless.” I said, gesturing to Shuichi and Hajime.

Shuichi shrugged. “We can share the title. But Aoi, forewarning… Maki practically has the training of a navy seal. But if you want to reign supreme, feel free to challenge her.”

“I think I will!” She declared proudly.

“Good luck.” Himiko smiled wickedly. “You’ll need it.”

I smiled contently. “I… Really like this.”

“...” Shuichi glanced at me, perplexed. “Like what?”

I shrugged, gesturing around widely. “I don’t know. Everyone just… Getting along. Talking like normal teenagers. It just… Makes me feel so good inside.

Shuichi iddly dug at his food, remaining silent for a moment. “...I like it too. Although, it feels… I don’t know. Fake? Too idyllic. I’m not saying we constantly remain in throes of sorrow, but.. We have to keep our minds open, right? Repression doesn’t solve anything.”

Aoi’s eyes swirled with little streaks of blue. “Yeah. There were… A lot of moments in the game that were like this, even really far in. For a moment… It’d seem like everything was okay. They’re nice to have, but… I see what you’re saying, Shuichi. We can't keep moving forward if we don't remain cognizant.

Himiko nodded solemnly, while I glanced around at everyone. “I… I don’t know if I agree. Isn’t it okay if we just have these moments? We have to remain positive…”

“I never said we didn’t.” Shuichi stated. “All I think is that… Lying to ourselves isn’t the way to beat this. We’ll just keep going in circles.”

“I have a lot of experiences with lies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makoto's an interesting character, if a bit boring as your standard "Insert protagonist". I'm trying to make him more compelling by just highlighting his differences in thinking between himself and all the other survivors, but I especially loved writing his interactions with the V3 cast! Soon (Ish) he finally gets to talk with Kyoko- Which should be a blast, although there's sort of a reason she's been trying to avoid him.


	10. Daily life 2: Part 1- A lie in the dark (Toko)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even without my name, you must know my work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2 of Toko's chapters! This one's short, but I think it makes a good contained story, and is a little different from anything in this fic before. More to come!

  
Do you ever feel like you’re drowning?

No matter what you do, the claws of death grasp you. Hold you tighter. Crush your lungs. Your will. Your spirit.

The pain, the searing touch ever creeping towards your inevitable end. Moment my moment. Till silence.

Peace. 

* * *

 

I had a strange dream. Or perhaps, a nightmare?

A nightmare, not the kind that the terror grips you whilst you dream: instead, bliss is set upon you. It’s happy, a rapture of a world.

The nightmare is upon waking. Wondering where your perfect life, perfect world, perfect dream went. Realizing all it was is another taunt. More provocation from your terrible enemy inside.

When waking, I felt lost, slowly falling in a black bog of shadows. Where was the light? Where was the hotel room?

Where was…

Komaru?

A shallow breath caught in my throat: I wasn’t even sure if my eyes were open. It was so dark that you couldn’t even tell, your mind tricking you with phantom sights, wondering if the movement and shapes were actually there. Shouldn’t it be morning? Where was the light from the windows?

I helplessly scrambled around, pulling myself over the edge of something cold and hard, before my limbs snapped under me and I tumbled to the ground, the edge of my face being pressed against the cold tile.

And then I cried.

I didn’t have much else to do.

Who was I? Where was I? My thoughts were caught in that half-fog between dreams and reality, where the two blend and swirl and neither version of yourself is real anymore.

I sobbed helplessly into the floor, my messy, frayed hair sprawled all around me as my horrible self spilled into me like toxic sludge, and the blissful memories of the beautiful dream I was experiencing faded away.

I’m Toko Fukawa, Ultimate writing prodigy. I’m a failure.

Even with all my thoughts of whatever happened in that dream gone, one name stuck into my mind. It seemed so important, so vital, yet I had nothing behind it besides the vague sense of a kind face.

Who was Komaru?

I must have sat there, sobbing, for far too long. Choking out into a dark world that cared not to listen, who would answer with spite if they could.

And then, the shadows spoke.

“Don’t cry. The worst is over.”

I stopped. My voice half-caught in a sob, as I pulled my face soaked from tears off the floor slowly and helplessly glanced around the room that might as well have been a void of stars in space.

“Who-” I began, another sob splitting my words, when the darkness answered again. It sounded like a boy, it’s words tainted in the ecstacy of knowledge.

“I’m a lie in the dark.” It answered simply. “Here to rescue the princess of night from her castle.”

“...” I stopped. Stared at nothing, at the point in space where the voice was coming from, etched a face into the ebony canvas to fit that voice, one with a cheshire grin and eyes full of both malice and hope.

“No more questions: I cannot give you answers. I would fade away, for I cannot exist without this lie.”

“Come, take my hand.” I heard the rustling of fabric, what must have been it’s cloak of stars billowing behind it. “Your audience is waiting.”

Silently, I floundered my hand around in the dark, before a cold and unsettling vice grasped it. The hand was small, almost childlike: but the nails were sharp and the grip was tight, like that of a raptor. Yet, strangely comforting. Another sense in this void of sensation.

My mind could not even speculate, too caught in this junction of emotions, sensations, and memories. Was this still the dream? It felt all too real, except that voice, and the hand guiding me.

It pulled me up, moved my arm around its shoulders for support: it was somehow shorter than me, and my hand grasped around some loose fabric around its shoulders, brushing past some short, messy hair. We moved slowly and painfully, step by step, till I heard the whirring of a door, as we must have stepped through a doorway.

“Promise me something.” The onyx whisperer said. “I am a paradox: I can only exist if I do not. Your audience cannot know my words, my face, or my name.”

Somehow, I pulled meaning from it’s riddles and half-words. I choked out a “I promise.”, as we stepped, stepped along.

Another door whirred open, and then… Light. Spilling into this empty void, lighting the dark and its lie. I glanced over, and saw his face… But I will keep my promise. For now, anyways.

The hallway we gazed upon was long, the lines of its shape stabbing into the horizon. It looked… Industrial. Outside, the shadows of night kept their domain, only tiny droplets of ebony and vague senses of motion escaping it’s all-consuming embrace.

He smiled: we stepped faster now. “We’re both rejects, lost in a world we shouldn’t belong, forbidden knowledge piercing our consciousness from alternate lives. You’ll be my voice to speak to an audience I cannot appear before: not yet.”

“Who are you?” I asked, finally getting my sense of reality back under me. “Or would that just be another lie?”

He stared ahead, face twisting from a grin to something of seeping sorrow. “I’ll tell you. But our agreement still stands.”

And then he said his name. And I smiled.

“I don’t know why you’re going through all this effort, trusting so much, to me... Do you even know who I am?”

He shrugged, moving my arm a bit in the process. “Somewhat: but I don’t think it matters. Besides, why do you assume what im trusting is even that much? I’ve hardly told you anything.”

“...I’ve trusted a lot of secrets to a lot of people, and they all said they’d never tell. But they always do.” I frowned.

“Then wouldn’t you be the best person to keep mine safe?” He raised an eyebrow.

“....” I didn’t really have an answer to that, and we shuffled along, along… Passed a corner, wobbled toward an elevator.

“You haven’t told me much, but you don’t seem the type who tells anyone much. The fact you’ve told me anything is something.”

“I suppose.” He agreed, leading us into the elevator and selecting a floor- “Housing 2” “Are you beginning to piece together the shattered world we have been torn into?”

“....Somewhat. Something tells me you’re treating me different than you treat most.”

“Well... You’d be right. Serious matters call for serious facades. Besides, wearing one face, one mask… For so long.. Simply isn’t enough.”

“...I get what you’re saying. Sometimes, I wish I could be someone else, too.”

The elevator door opened, and he led me to a door- “Sonia Nevermind”

“Knock.” He grinned. “And greet your audience.”

Then he slipped away, back into his void of night.

Part 1 of 2 of Toko’s chapters. To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No notes on Toko, since this chapter wasn't completely about her.
> 
> "Words and moments from worlds before flutter down into this reality."


	11. Daily life 2- Part 2: Eye in the eye (Toko/Syo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is a half, without it's other half? And what drives the dark little lady from Novoselic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little bit in the making, and to be honest, I still have a lot more stuff I want to do with toko I couldn't fit into this chapter! There will probably be a small little Toko follow up next chapter to elaborate on what happened here.

I swallowed my spit, glanced around- Hoping just a little bit that he was still here, a comforting shadow on the wall. But he was gone.

Like he was never here in the first place.

My hand trembled, but I couldn’t back down- Part of me just wanted to sleep here outside the door, but he asked me to, right? I can’t let him down, like so many others have let me down. Maybe I deserve it, but if someone trusts me with something I'll hold that trust to my heart.

Sonia- At least it was a girl, I could hardly imagine trying to talk with a boy about this, asking them what the hell was going on, trying to dance around how exactly I got here in the first place. I’d probably become a trembling mess.

Her door was decorated in an opulent but mysterious style, with blacks and golds that wouldn’t be out of place in some sort of gothic mansion. I knocked, wondering if my hand was even fit to touch such decadence.

The noise was deafening, so small yet reverberating soundlessly- Infinitely. I felt like I could feel it bounce around in my skull and turn my brain to mush. The few seconds of waiting were tiring, seemingly infinite. Was she even here?

And then she opened the door.

It was weird. Very weird. Something clicked. Something… In there. In my head. Like two lost lovers finally finding each other again. Like two pieces of the puzzle drifting through space, happening to find one another again.

Her face. I had… Seen it before? Where, where... Always just out of reach. Two hands so close, yet years apart… An eye open, yet closed.

She was beautiful. Like a goddess, or an angel… Maybe an angel of death, the last kind face you see that leads you to a golden tomorrow. But no… This was just a girl, with the face of a deity. You could see her mortality in her tired eyes, messy hair- But I saw beneath that. Saw a paragon of virtue.

...And my mind rambles, again and again. Working with just a tiny spark of knowledge, it dreams wildly and fancifully: showering me with expectations that can never be met, or aspirations that will never occur. They’re all human, which makes it all the worse when they make it oh so clear.

She’s wearing a green and red nightgown, and I expected her to be disgusted at the messy little rat in her doorway- Especially someone so beautiful, a fair maiden who could easily fit into a fairy tale or one of my novels. Instead, her gaze and expression was a thousand-fold.

Imagine staring into a four-dimensional prism, watching in awe as light splits, folds, extends, weaves… Breathes… Into patterns unknown, hidden and found meaning. Those were her eyes. I had seen ones like them many times before: on Kyoko, Celeste... Dangerous eyes, eyes of someone who thinks too much.

But these were a little different. Brighter, fuller of life… Somehow. Reflected in them I saw both curiosity and pity, determination and remorse.

“.....” I struggled to think of something to say, to begin this conversation. The words caught in my throat, lost in an abyss of letters and meaning. I may think I know something from those eyes… But I can always, always be wrong. This mind of mine twists and warps anything it can get its hands on, creating something different… More worthy of a story, perhaps. That’s why I can never live in reality.

“...It’s okay.” She said softly, giving a small smile. “I know how overwhelming things can be after you wake: I'm just wondering how you got up here, why nobody was waiting for you while you woke, and why you came to be in particular…” She glanced over me, a bit of concern washing over her features. “You really shouldn’t be standing in this condition, especially if you walked all the way up here by yourself. Here.” She offered out her hand, a dainty, perfect little thing- Yet energy coursed beneath the surface. Hands that could kill.

...I would know.

“...I-It’s… Not even because I just woke up. I’m just… Like this.” I admitted, staring down at the ground in shame.

She gently took my hand without me offering it, pulling me slightly towards the door. “Is that anything to be ashamed of? Please, look me in the eye.” I glanced up at her, shriveling a bit under eye contact. “Everyone has demons, everyone has things about themselves they don’t like. Yes, even me.” She gave another small, kind smile.

“...I’m sorry that you’re wasting your encouragement on me. I’ve been to more therapists than doctors…. I don’t think any words can change me.”

“Well…” She led me inside. “That’s fine, I believe. Few words actually matter in the grand scheme of things: how many individual words from people do you remember? In a way, I’m selfish: I’m not saying this for your sake, but for mine. If they could change you I would be glad, but more so than anything I’m saying these things so that it can be known I said them. Regardless of whether they affect you, they will affect your opinion of me. That does not mean my words have no meaning behind them: simply that if words truly have no meaning, they should not be said.”

She gestured to the couch and I sat, thoroughly mulling those words over and twisting them into every possible connotation. “That’s… A lot of honesty. I’m… Not sure whether to be insulted or glad.”

She sat down next to me, staring off into the distance. “As a politician, I’ve learned when to let my thoughts slip and when to keep them bottled up inside: maybe that was a lot to tell someone I’ve just met, but you seem the kind of person whose fanciful speculation may run wild and lead to a seeping anxiety. If I speak my thoughts, there will be no room to speculate.” She said simply.

“...W-wow. You can tell that much about me from first glance?” I sputtered out, suddenly feeling quite naked.

“No. Most of it was assumptions, but thank you for confirming.” I blushed a little bit. “Funny that we’ve already talked so much, and yet I haven’t even asked for your name. My apologies.”

“...Toko Fukawa. I… Write books, sometimes.”

“Sonia Nevermind. I suppose you have some questions about… All of the madness that we’ve gotten into?”

And then she explained this… Situation. I don’t know what to think. Should I be… Happy? Sad? Angry? They could all come back… But do I even care? Should I even care? Would it be better if this all could just be over, even if they all just stayed dead….

If I’m already a monster, maybe I should just commit and give up trying to work towards those fantasies my mind tantalizes me with. If this is what I’ve doomed myself to be, why do I keep trying to escape it?

“If you don’t mind me asking…” She began. “Is there… Anything we should know about for security reasons? Kyoko, Maki And myself have established a sort of… Leader’s council, if you will, in the absence of anyone else, and it’s our job to sniff out these sorts of things before they fester and rot until a rancid ulcer bubbles forth. If there’s any bad blood from the killing game, or anything like that ...”

Do I tell her?

She’d find out eventually. It’s better to be honest.

Honest that i’m a monster, a poet who writes with blood and bone. Someone who can't handle that their reality isn’t fantasy, who made a guardian devil to protect them from the truth.

It’s times like these when I remember the first kill.

* * *

 

 

A red shadow on a dreary sky. A silver lance piercing the heavens. The warm embrace of a life, just ended.

It didn’t take long for me to realize something was wrong after I had woken. I could feel damp cloth pressed against my body, clumps of my messy hair stuck to my face. I was half-submerged in a lukewarm swill.

I stared up at the ceiling- I knew this place. This was the backroom of the school, somewhere I hid away from time to time. I recognized every spiderweb, the tender little patterns they strung, dizzying shapes out of dreams.

I choked down my spit, raised my hand so I could see it. Waiting in trepidation- I knew all too well where this was going.

A bloody hand. A crimson sun. The mark of the first.

I didn’t scream. I… Couldn’t, scream. The energy, the muster… The voice simply didn’t come to me. I simply stared, watched my hand sway back and forth like a leaf lost in the wind.

I stood, ever so slowly… Trembling… My terrible, futile mind imaging the thousand results waiting for me.

What I saw wasn’t so bad. At least, compared to what I thought I deserved.

He was terrible. He had treated me like garbage. His words cling to my mind, heavy, shadowy weights, even today.

But he didn’t deserve this. No one… Deserved this. Not even me. His face forever caught in a vice of terror and grief, like it was a vigil carved from stone. His blood used like a cheap paint, splayed over every surface.

And over me. Over my hands. It could only be me.

When I first saw him, my imagination had thought him my prince. In that single moment, it had created a thousand perfect ones. Of friendship. Of passion,

Of love.

I gritted my teeth so tightly together that needles of pain pricked across my jaw, I balled my hands into fists….

And cried. Tears mixed with the dried blood speckled across my face, creating a vile mixture that trickled through my lips and filled my mouth with the taste of salt and metal.

I walked a few steps toward him… But it felt like my legs wouldn’t obey me. I slipped in the pool of candy apple sludge beneath me, falling face first into it again and feeling the stuff stick to my face.

I must have laid there for hours. Crying, not sure if my face was wet from the tears or the blood. Wondering how I can be so useless yet so good at making other people miserable.

I wondered if I should just stay here. Let my sins catch up to me, embrace the void of a life I was always meant to live.

But I found… Something in me. Small. Insignificant. A fragile shard of that fairytale optimism that had gotten me into this situation in the first place. I stood, my legs stable this time- I removed the scissors from his hands, let him fall into my arms. Gave him one last cold, dead, embrace.

In just a moment, things changed. I wasn’t kneeling, pressing my face into his shirt and offering what remorse I could for someone I killed- I was staring at his crucified body again, newly staked to the wall. A bloody message written next to him, as I felt the vibrant ink used to write it dripping from my hand.

“WHY GIVE HIM REMORSE?”

I hardly had time to consider the first message from her before I heard distant voices, and I ran.

I fled from justice. From my destiny.

* * *

 

 

  
Sonia looked me over with an expression caught between surprise and concern. “...Toko? Did I say something? Are… You okay?”

I must have looked wretched, like someone who had lost it all. But all I have ever done is taken.

“I am Genocider Syo.” I said simply. No excuses, no explaining could make up for what I am.

A two sided face, looking down into heaven and into hell. A dreamer and a demon. A girl and her protector.

Sonia’s expression wavered into an uncanny mixture of emotions: realization, disbelief. But… Was that… Interest? Excitement? Enamorment? Curiosity?

I’ve never seen quite something like that when someone looks at me. Suddenly, Sonia suddenly went from a rather normal girl to something… Disturbing. The kind of fascinated look I wouldn’t be surprised if Syo herself wore from time to time.

And then in just a moment, it was gone: I wondered if it was ever there in the first place. Washed away, a message on the sands… I shook my head and dismissed it.

“I’m sorry, but i’ve had recent moments of similar claims. Is there anything you can do to… Credit that?”

I opened my mouth half-open in surprise. Nobody had questioned me before when I revealed myself… They just- Accepted it. It made sense. I suppose. “...N-not really. I… I could ask her to speak to you, but I could just be bluffing there too, so…” I stared at the ground.

“...It’s fine. I believe you.”

“...Then why’d you ask?”

“I believe you now.” She explained, a calculated glimmer of cold sparkling like ice in her eyes. “It’s about the reaction. You act like you have nothing to prove. But for the record ...”

“...She? So she’s… Separate?”

I grimaced. “Can we… Not… Talk about this?” I squeaked out.

“...Right, i’m sorry. But… Could I talk to… Her? I do need to make sure she won't cause any trouble, after all.”

I sighed, a feeling of dread curling like a slender ouroboros of unease in my gut. “...I guess.”

* * *

 

  
I wouldn’t call being locked out of control sleeping.

No, I knew sleep: that’s one of the few states we shared. More like… Being trapped in a world between sleep and waking, life and death. I’d catch little glimpses through her eyes, here and there. Fragments of conversations, little droplets of sadness.

It’s like… Like being suspended in water, like being bound inside a void so, so close to reality. You can’t move, you can’t breathe… All the while, someone else is in the control seat.

She’s lucky. She doesn’t feel anything when I'm in control… I’d prefer it that way. Like most things, she’s ignorant… Blissfully sliding along nirvana on her cloud of fantasy, till reality wrenches it out beneath her.

I think if I wanted to, I could pull it all out beneath her: her soul, her mind… They’re puny little things, and if I try hard enough, if I lash out against the black restraints binding me to the back of her mind, I can wrench control away from her. Send her back to her dreams.

I could have her whole life. Then again, who wants to have her life? So, then… I’m here without the downsides, and all the benefits. I get to live life in the fast lane- no trouble, no responsibility.

If only it wasn’t for that time between when I get my turn.

It isn’t often when she gives me any time willingly. It’s happened more and more lately, after having to out herself to everyone… But it’s happened before. When she’s awake, late at night… Troubles haunting her thoughts like phantoms, caught in a haze where she can't sleep, but can't think in anything bit circles.

When she just wants a break from it all- It’s nice to just have a way to hand off control to another person. Even if she calls me a demon.

I’m fine with her calling me that. I’m the demon. I’m the monster.

What makes me mad is when she has the nerve, the… Audacity to call herself that. Who killed them? I did. Who doesn’t care? I don’t.

So there’s no reason for her to blame herself.

Yet she still does.

 

* * *

 

This was one of those times, one of those times where she called me out willingly. Few and far between, but… They were nice. Made me feel like we had something more of a connection, more than the angry tear-stained notes she sometimes left for me.

In my own personal void, I caught these little glimpses of this strange new Hell we had found   
ourselves in: of the little boy whose only friend was shadow, or the princess whose white dress was soaked blood-red.

But it’s always a little startling. When we switch… For just a moment, a tiny little fraction of a second… I feel like her. It’s an indescribable, puzzling feeling, of unity, something I never felt with her. I…. Wonder if she feels it sometimes, too?

Sonia must have seen the change, step by step. How Toko’s eyes, little spring pools of sorrow, shifted and churned- A little red, a little blood spilling all into them, forming those little crystalline patterns as they were split in two.

And then… She was gone, all gone. All that was left was me, the blood red aftermath of a life left unloved, of every bitter word and shove away. It must have been instantly obvious to her Toko couldn’t have been fibbing, with how her eyes must have twisted to something wretched.

The way she reacted, how she… Looked over me, was… Unusual. It wasn’t the fear I usually got, from my victims or not: that tantalizingly sweet but still bitter sense, that they finally felt the pain she had to endure, or even the fear I got from my classmates, from knowing what I was capable of. It wasn’t the pity or hatred Toko saw in everyone. It was…

Fascination. An almost giddy excitement, a ravenous desire to know everything she can about me… Hungry eyes that scanned over me like a starving wolf.

It was almost concerning. Almost.

“What’s the matter, princess? Want a taste?” I spat out, poking her hard in the chest.

She hardly even reacted to my jab or my tone, standing tall above me with confidence that was eerie: like Byakuya had, but… Different. She somehow had determination behind those eyes that somehow easily surpassed his.

“....Princess? Syo, I didn’t mention my talent or profession to Toko once. I made sure of that.” She questioned, with scrutiny that made me feel like I was under a microscope.

...And it looks like I was busted. I didn’t exactly want to admit I knew that much more than Toko, but subtlety isn’t exactly my forte….

“Yeah? So what, blood queen? I know who you are, what you’ve done. Honestly, I’m a novice killer by your standards. Even I wouldn’t go so far as killing my own parents, or plunging the entire world into conflict.”

Her eyes widened, although she was trying to hide it- There it was: the gap in her armor, my opening to wipe that uncanny fascination off her face.

“...What?” Fragile fear, tasty terror. How people squirm knowing the devil they have inside: I bet this perfect little princess will nearly faint knowing what she did.

“The tragedy. I was there: I remember. Why’d the little girl from Novoselic start so many godamn bloody wars? And where did she get all the money to do so?” I grinned. “They’d write you up in the history books with Hitker and Stalin, for all the innocents you tortured…”

“The Tragedy did not happen.” She said decisively, her composure only wavering slightly. “You’re trying to use false memories against me.” Her eyes swirled like little pools of liquid ice, and may have chilled me- If I could feel cold.

I scoffed. “You can’t have ‘em both, Princess. You can’t claim what happened there wasn’t real and still hold on to who you are, you can’t say all that blood isn’t all over your hands and staining your pretty little dress and still call yourself a future queen. Either both the monster and you are real, or neither are.”

She narrowed her eyes, and then… Smiled. Almost eerily so, that same kind of carefree, absentminded smile she gave to Toko, that made you think she was dumber than she was. “Haha- That’s a lot of talk for someone who isn’t real themselves.” She leaned over, staring me straight in the eyes. “Don’t you ever wonder what will happen when Toko moves on? You know, there are plenty of cases where extra personalities disappear when people get over her trauma.” She leaned back, grinning ear to ear. “Isn’t that just the most interesting thing?”

Something stirred in my gut, a sickening churning I only knew from Toko’s memories. “...What are you trying to say?” It felt like a presence possessing me, slowly slipping away my comfort and ease.

She shrugged. “All I'm saying is that there might come a time where Toko won’t need you anymore: where she discards you like a used toy. What will happen to you then, I wonder? It’ll be like you never existed in the first place, I suppose. Just a shadow of a scared little girl, a dream who thought she existed.”

I clenched my fists hard into my palms, relishing the pain that tied me down- Kept me here. Felt anger boil like bubbling lava, the same anger I felt for all those fools who looked down on Toko. “You’re wrong. She needs me. You know what would have happened if I wasn’t here? She’d have killed herself.”

She scoffed at that, tilting her head at me, smile twisting into some sort of cheshire smirk. “And you’re helping by doing what, exactly? You’ve made her life a living hell. Do you honestly think you’re helping? She hates you. You’re everything she dislikes about herself, coiled into one little ball of shadow.”

What a trite. What a….. There’s something telling me she’s just trying to get to me, push my buttons- See how I react. But all the same, this feeling, this…. Wrath. It’s different. No one has ever pushed me like this before. “Who are you to say all this? You just met us, little girl, little princess. You’re making big accusations for someone who's scared of their own shadow- Don’t think I didn’t see how you squirmed under the truth. She needs me, so I can pull her out of her dreams. That reminder… That she’ll never be with them. That’s what i’m here to kill.”

She shrugged. “It was shocking, for sure. But trust me- I am far more attuned to my dark side than you could ever be. All i’m saying is that you’re living in a fantasy, more than Toko ever was. Right now, you’re pinocchio- The puppet who thought she was a real girl, just the shadow on Plato’s wall. All you know is death, and pain… You think that’s humanity? You think that’s living? Like a machine, only programmed to kill… You say you’re here for her benefit, but yet you leave her in this hell, let her torture herself around people who treat her poorly.” She stopped- The eerie smile was gone, replaced my something far more serious. She spoke like she knew from experience.

“If you want to be tossed aside, just another stepping stone on her path to becoming a better person- Go ahead. Stay in your rut, act like a dog chasing its own tail. She’ll leave you, banish you to a little corner of her mind, where you’re nothing more than a few neurons helplessly firing away. Maybe you should think about actually helping her, actually being like the big sister or friend she should have always had.”

I stopped, and stared. What was this? Was it… Fear? I’ve never feared death, but… Somehow, becoming nothing again, losing myself to that void… It was worse.

“You’re lucky you’re not my type.” I shakily muttered. “Where’d you even think of all that? You don’t know us.”

“I know more than you think: I never said to Toko I didn’t know who she was… And I know your type.” She stood, making her way over to the kitchen and beginning to make some tea. “Think over what I said, Syo: for what it’s worth, I hope you become something more than the shell you are now.”

 

* * *

 

It isn’t often that Syo pulls me out of sleep.

And it was different this time, anyways. After that… Horrifying little transition, where for just a second, I can…. Feel her anger, the hellish heat of her blood… I was standing in front of a mirror.

And my reflection moved without my consent: It was her. Being face to face was…. Something else. Fear spiked through my mind, even though she could never hurt me. Even just… Seeing her was enough. Remembering she existed.

“Toko.” She said simply, staring me down hard. “We need to talk.”

“H-how?” I sputtered, glancing around the small bathroom (Presumably Sonia’s) That we were in. “How are you-”

“Your- Our minds are broken. Are you really surprised that something like this is possible?” Something was… Off. She looked… Troubled? How was that even possible?

“I… I guess. What do you want from me?” My voice trembled from the shaky fear possessing it, but she probably knew I was terrified of her anyway.

“First of all… Stop that.” She snarled.

“Stop… What?”

She rolled her eyes, pointing at me. “Acting like im a boogeymonster about to rip out your guts and eat them in front of you. I’m you, idiot: what could I possibly do to hurt you?”

I held my hands together, doing my best to avoid eye contact. “....A lot, actually. You’ve already done so much…”

“....” She stayed quiet for a few seconds. “Listen. I want to make a deal, alright?”

I looked up, confused. “Do I even have a choice?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course you do. From now on, I want a- Truce, I guess. You stop treating me like a nightmarish skeleton heap hiding in your closet, and I stop indiscriminately murdering and treating you like a shivering welp. Sound good?”

“...Are you trying to… Reconcile with me?”

“Call it whatever you want, miss morose: all I'm saying is I want some sort of equality here, a mutual benefit sorta thing.”

I blinked slowly, not daring to dream, knowing it all could be some sick prank, hope snatched from under my nose- “....What did Sonia say to you to bring out all of this?”

“That’s not important. What is important-” She pressed her hand up against the glass, a puzzling expression of anger and regret coiling over her face- “-Is that i’m going to do my best to try to make this better. New world, new leaf, right?”

…I wish it were that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this was a pretty good showing of how I like to portray both Sonia and Syo! Both of which are characters that I think got the raw end of the deal from the very nature of Danganronpa as a comedical game, and considering that this fic is generally pretty serious I think I had to emphasize some aspects of their characters moreso than the funny bits that get used as the brunt of jokes. I really wanted to explore Sonia's darker side that's hinted at in the games- Her fascination with psychology, killers, etc, especially in the confrontation with someone she must have thought about quite a bit (Syo) As well as the thoughts that might plague someone who only exists as a part of another person.
> 
> Can you imagine being in Syo's situation, knowing that you're something created by another person's pain? While in previous chapters characters used knowledge of other character's mental states to support them and try to help them move on, Sonia used her theories about Syo and Toko's relationship here much more aggressively in an attempt to not only make everyone else safer, but also make the relationship better as a whole. She definitely didn't get everything right, and it might backfire right in her face.
> 
> I honestly loved writing this chapter! Toko is easily in my S tier of characters I love to write for, but that's not saying much since a lot of these survivors, even ones I previously disliked have made it up there!


	12. Daily life 2- Part 3: Dethroned (Byakuya/Sonia/Syo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonia has a plan. Syo does too.
> 
> And Byakuya isn’t having a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the weird paragraph spacing, I’ll fix later! Posting this on a phone on vacation.

Loss of control is a problem of mine.

 

I don’t know how any of them- Makoto or anyone else, manages it, and I know for a fact Kyoko feels the same as me. They let people practically use them as a welcome mat, yet are so careless and… Happy all the same: Toko seems bereft if not being trodden on.

 

But I suppose it’s better this way, otherwise life would be a mad scramble to the top, and less enjoyable for people like me: so they have their place. It’s just… Thoroughly annoying, is what it is. I thought that when I attended Hope’s Peak that I’d have an audience of like-minded individuals, those who rose and fought to the top of their fields because they knew that’s where they belonged, what they deserved…

 

Yet most of them are just like the rest. Complacent. Perfectly happy lowering themselves and relinquishing their rightful position over others… And for what, exactly? They deserve better: they’ve worked for it.

 

Well… Accept for Makoto, but he’s a different story. So happy go-lucky, so… Infuriatingly optimistic he eventually rubs some of that naive muck off on you like wiping mud on your sleeve. Truly annoying, but like I said- He has his place. 

 

This entire debacle has been thoroughly testing, not necessarily because of its danger, for I wasn’t really worried for much of it, but simply the amount of variables and actions I could not control. In my estate, I’m the head- Every whistle, every twitch I’m aware of and command. I knew going into this school, with people who should be my equals I’d have a similar problem- But I accepted it as a necessary challenge, and even almost anticipated it as a break from tedium. But what happened was entirely different.

 

Feeling like a puppet, being danced along the strings.. Now that is an emotion foreign to me. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I once thought of it like another competition I would easily best, even going so far as to scheme over thorough murder plans for each of my classmates. It wasn’t until later that I realized exactly how much of a shallow fool I was being, lowering myself to the level of idiots like Leon who would bloody their hands over such trivial matters.

 

Maybe it was just because I was ready to get back into a comfortable bubble of subordinates and trusted colleagues, but I’m thoroughly glad I never carried out any of those schemes- For a number of reasons. Although I’m certain pulling off the initial killing would have been trivial, I’m equally confident I would have been caught- Partly due to my suspicion that the whole thing was rigged from the start, but also because of Kyoko.

 

Oh Kyoko. Who thought someone like her would be my equal, or perhaps someone who could, just maybe… Best me? I underestimated her severely, more than I would ever care to admit. I thought she was quiet and submissive, but in reality she was determined and decisive: I have no doubt in my mind that she played a major factor in our eventual… “Victory” if you could even call it that, and I have almost as little doubt that if I killed, she would have caught me.

 

She was always two steps ahead of everyone else, and even one step ahead of me- No easy feat, to be sure. Problems that troubled me seemed trivial to her….

 

She would be a fine spouse to the Togami lineage: if only… Well, I doubt she’s interested in romance at all, much less with me: we both know I expect submissiveness, and I’m not daft enough to expect she would ever lower herself to that level.

 

I thought that even a barren wasteland would be a better place, a more comfortable place than that game- And yet, here I am. In yet another game, with perhaps less control than before.

 

I feel a little sick. 

* * *

  
  


I woke up from a pleasant little dream- One I can’t quite remember, only to be greeted by a much less pleasing- And quite irritating reality.

 

The aching pain, and sheer unfamiliarity with my surroundings- How the sharp metal dig into my skin, how every breath felt like my chest was going to burst- All of it was offputting, but it helped at least a little bit that someone- Something familiar, stabilizing was here.

 

Oh Toko. Someone so far beneath me, lowering herself to groveling at my feet- Fragile, diminutive- But she was a welcome sight in yet more situations I couldn’t predict, couldn’t control.

 

But there was something… Off about her. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something was hardened in her eyes- Gleaming, like a diamond in a rough. Her posture, the way she held herself was more…. Upright. Confident.

 

It made me uneasy, that my one mast was also becoming unreliable: but I shook it off as best as I could. She seemed the kind to never shake out of her rut of subservience, which is what made her so lesser to me. No will to improve: no regard for her own status.

 

“Toko.” I called out, biting back a groan as a pain split out from my side. “Help me out of this… Thing.” I grimaced. Where _was_ I, anyways? The fact I had to rely on her in the first place was offputting.

 

Her eyes narrowed as her fists clenched slightly together. “Please.” She said slowly, staring me down.

 

“Excuse me?” I was trying to reconcile what was happening- Surely, surely even someone as static as Toko hadn’t changed so suddenly. She must have mixed up her words, like someone as daft as her might…

 

“You heard me.” She nearly spat, lip curling and eyes flaring. “Use your words, Byakuya. Say please.” 

 

I held my mouth open in shock, eyes wide open, my world tumbling out from under me. She had the audacity… The gall..  What had gotten into her? This wasn’t like her at all. She had even used my name- When was the last time she hadn’t called me “Master”?

 

“You have no right to ask anything of me, swine!” I shouted out, struggling to pull myself out of the pod, only for my limbs to buckle out from under me and send me back to where I started.

 

She jeered. Standing above me and looking down with a grin. “H-how does it feel, rich boy? To have the rug pulled out from under you, to rely on someone and have them betray you?” As I tried again to lull myself up, she shoved me down again with a forceful shove. “Try doing things yourself for a change.”

 

“You think I’m entitled?” I spat out, feeling my eyes like coals, livid with rage. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through! What I’ve done to become who I am!”

 

“You think you know suffering? Hardship?” She tilted her head towards me, shaking it as she pulled up her hand and chewed on her fingernails. You don’t know anything.”

 

She turned away from me, strolling out of the doorway, only pausing for a moment. “I can’t believe I thought you’d have changed: everyone else has.”

 

My mind reeled. Nothing… None of this… Made any sense. If I had anything in my stomach, I wouldn’t anymore.

* * *

 

  


I paused outside the pod room, a smile on my face as I rocked back and forth on my heels- Today, I thought I’d wear something a little unusual. Evidently, my other self didn’t have nearly the same fashion sense as me, but the modern and sleek coats and pants she seemed to enjoy weren’t bad, necessarily…

 

Ah. And there she was- The woman of the hour, my little rook, black and sleek- A tower, sharp and deadly. As she slipped out the door, she jumped back a tiny bit in shock. “O-oh, Sonia! I… Didn’t expect to see you here.” Her voice jitters slightly in her usual, almost cute way, her eyes dancing quickly over me in an anxious and chaotic pattern, a nebulous constellation.

 

I beamed, hands behind my back with a knowing smile. I tilted my head slightly with an inquisitive look, making sure I appeared slightly smug but still amicable. “Oh hello, Syo. You can drop the facade now.”

 

Immediately, “Toko” melted away- The anxiousness, uneasy gait and posture, as well as the soft look in her eyes like a frightened kitten immediately disappearing, replaced by a confident and abrasive aura that exudes around her like sandpaper.

 

She sneered. “I need to work on my act, huh? Hopefully Byakuya was surprised enough to not notice.” 

 

I gave an encouraging grin, despite encouraging her to impersonate her alter ego. “I thought it was quite convincing, actually. I just know better than to think Toko would ever walk out of there without being right on Byakuya’s heels. I assumed you pushed him off, yes? And while pretending to be Toko, no less. May I ask why? She wouldn’t exactly be pleased knowing you ruined one the relationships she enjoys the most and pretended to be her.”

 

“Oh, try not to wank yourself off too hard, will you, Cinderella?” She rolled her eyes, turning partially away to break eye contact- Maybe just out of disrespect, or maybe because she doesn’t want me to see more weakness out of her than I already have- For a serial killer, her vulnerable areas shine out like fireflies dancing at night, at least to my trained eyes.

 

“You know exactly why I’m doing this.” She continued, tossing her hands into the air to emphasize her point.

 

My mouth melded into a slightly self-satisfied and smug smirk. “So you’re taking my advice, then?” I asked offhandedly, already knowing the answer.

 

She turned back to me, leveling an angry, unamused glare. “Like I said, try not to get your panties all soaked just because I’m doing what you want me to: I promised her that I'd protect her and make her life better than the shithole it is right now, and for the record…” her stare intensified, her expression hardened into a resolute and determined, stony vice. “I haven’t made many promises beside this one, so I intend to keep it… And that begins by breaking off all these shitty relationships, no matter how much she likes being treated like a piece of trash.”

 

I raised an eyebrow, turning away from her and staring into the brilliant morning sky- A mellow and wholesome orange sunrise, on a finally clear sky. Like autumn leaves and orange peels plastered against the sky, with the water below like waves of satin lapping against them.

 

“That’s quite honorable- For a serial killer.” I quipped, marveling at the way the colors swirled together like paints in a mixing pot. She moved next to me, staring over my shoulder with crossed arms.

 

“Give me a break: like I care about being called that, anyways.” 

 

I glanced over at her, carefully examining the way her lips pursed and eyes burned, so different yet similar to Toko. “She’s not going to trust you after this, you know. Why not convince her he’s a degrading influence, first?”

 

She sighed, sounding somehow tired. “She wouldn’t listen to me: this is the first decent relationship she’s had with someone she’s actually attracted to.” She stared at the ground, grinding her teeth together as a tiny little prick of guilt crossed her face. “The only reason she’s stayed around him this long is because he’s such a piece of shit already, there’s no way her expectations can be dashed.” She grimaced, shaking the little droplets of guilt off her fierce composure.

 

Sympathy bubbled up inside me like a spring blossom unfurling… Who thought a killer could be so human? “That’s why you killed, right? So she wouldn’t be lost in depression from the dreams of her wandering mind being crushed by the very people who created them?”

 

Syo looked me over, as if trying to pull as many secrets out of me as I could for her, although… Her stare lingered over certain… Other areas. “Do the rest of the people here know how much of a nosy bitch you are?” 

 

I laughed softly, shaking my head slowly. “I’m guessing I at least got close, then? Close enough to upset you.” I paused, letting my smile droop slightly. “And no, they don’t know that I’m this… Inquisitve, So to speak: most underestimate me, actually. It’s very easy for me to keep up the facade of being a naive little princess, because, well…” I chuckled. “I was one, once. You won’t believe what you can get away with by just acting like a dumb foreigner.”

 

She scrutinized me suspiciously, and I felt a bit like an ant under a microscope- How she must feel when I look at her. But how can I resist? She’s just… So interesting. Such a perfect show of yin and yang, light and dark. Just how I like it. 

 

“So that’s how you made it through the game.” She posited, shaking her head slightly. “You did your best to blend in, acting like a non-threat, but not enough of a pushover to be trodden on. Smart.” She narrowed her eyes. “They were fools to underestimate you- It didn’t take you long to figure me out.”

 

I giggled a bit at that, covering my mouth. “Well, you are a bit of a special case… I took extra effort to figure you out.”

 

She paused for a while, and I could visibly see the sharp edges of her thoughts moving past one another. “Why though?” Her mouth twisted into a deriding sneer. “Are you just one of those sickos who likes serial killers that much?”

 

I shrugged. “You’re one to talk about being sick: you are the serial killer here, after all.” I reached my hand forward, as if to cup her face, before she viciously slapped it away. “I just find it fascinating how both of your minds are warped like twisted steel: and yet, how close any of us might come to becoming just like you… The multiple personalities only help to exacerbate my interests, since it means I have two people to scrutinize, two very similar… Yet different souls to pry upon. Knowing what makes you two tick helps make sure myself or others don’t fall down the same path.”

 

“So that’s your endgame, then.” She seethed slowly. “That’s why you pulled me along like a fucking puppet, got me to care about little darling depression the only way I know how. You’re trying to make sure none of us kill one another, and “Fixing” Toko And I was just the first step of your plan.” 

 

“And you’re surprised?” I questioned, pursing my lips slightly. “Despite knowing you’re a lot more of a person than most people would say, you’ve still killed people, Toko- A lot of people.” I found necessary to mention, seeing as she wasn’t the only person in this bunker- Or even in this hallway that had killed before. “I need assurance that you won’t draw your scissors again, because all it would take is one death to set a spiral in motion that no one could stop.”

 

She ground her teeth together, eyes drifting away from mine to avoid eye contact. “You clearly don’t understand me enough to think I would kill again, especially here- There’s just no reason to.” She stared hard at the ground, before spitting on it. “You could say that when I was young- When I was a child, if you could even call me that- I had a lot more reason to. In the beginning, I felt a lot closer, a lot more like her- I felt connected, maybe just because I hadn’t been my own person for very long yet. I was angry- Fucking livid at every cuck who dared treat her poorly. That’s what made me want to kill.” She grimaced, a peculiar look of both nostalgia and pain warping her already steely features. “But as time went on, I felt connected to what she felt less and less, and I realized a lot of the pain she went through was just as much her fault as it was theirs. She expected every fucking boy to be an angel, be Prince Charming! And her obsession with romance novels did not help, either- it got even worse after she started publishing. But as long as she was with Byakuya, I didn’t have to worry about killing to make sure she didn’t slip into a suicidal state anymore. Since he always treated her like shit, she didn’t even have a chance to expect him to be better.”

 

“So all that leaves is killing itself.” She continued, the hate and disgust at me mixing with something… Else in her stare, something completely different. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t enjoy it. I’ve wondered if that’s just how her fucked up mind made me, so that I would keep doing it as her stupid defense mechanism…. But it really is exhilarating. The warm rush of blood on your fingertips, the feeling of a pulse quickening, then dying… The screams.” Something wicked flashed in her eyes like Prey in a predators eyes- But then it settled, became something normal.

 

“But I’m not an idiot.” She conceded, and I watched her nails dig slightly into her bare skin. “And as I’ve had time to become more of a person, I enjoyed it less and less. Killing anyone back in the game or here would be suicide, and in a way- Everything I’ve done up to this point has been to stop my dumbass sister from killing herself.”

 

“Sister?” I grinned. “Did you just call her your sister?”

 

Syo ran her fingers through her hair, laughing dangerously. “Yeah, it beats insulting her for forever, now that we’re supposed to be cooperating. Besides, you’re right: we are more like sisters than I’d care to admit. She’s a stupid, bratty little sister who doesn’t know what’s good for her, but a sister nonetheless.”

 

She kicked the concrete floor a bit, watching as the dust rose and illuminated the rays of the sunrise. “And you know what? I don’t even care if I know most of this is your doing, tricking me to care about the little shit- Maybe out of self-preservation, or just because maybe I have more attachment to her than i’d care to admit. Because, although it’s not very easy for me to say-“ she paused, finally letting just a tiny bit of admiration show through her guise. “You are smarter than me, and probably have Toko and I’s best interests at heart.”

 

But with that, her moment of weakness was gone, and it nearly instantly shifted back to the intimidating and conniving face I was used to. “It makes me wonder, though….” Her eyes studied my face with careful precision. “Why didn’t you do this in your game? If you’re playing the puppet master here to keep the peace- And it’s clearly working if you made me, out of all people somewhat docile, why not do it in the literal killing game? You could have saved a lot of lives.” She gave a gleeful smirk, grinning as she could see my face squirm a bit at that comment.

 

I stood back for a moment, chewing on my lip slightly as I wondered how I should approach this- Before conceding to just telling her the truth. I let my face drop and my smile fade, allowing the hidden emotions to blossom forth- Letting the ripple of guilt and doubt overtake me. After all, if Syo had opened up to me- I could do the same. 

 

“Truthfully?” I began, my voice soured by an undercurrent of blue tones. “I was selfish. For the vast majority of the game, the only interest on my mind was survival. I could have taken the reigns, and assisted the group through my experience with leadership- Or even done as I have begun to do here, and worked behind the scenes, doing my best to keep the peace through a bit of manipulation. But I didn’t- And Why? Well…” I stared down sadly. “I knew doing any of those things would paint a target on my back in some way- And for the most part, I was right.” I looked her straight in the eye, appreciating someone who didn’t cower even before the most decisive glare. “Byakuya- Or, the imposter, rather, and many others- The righteous and the meek who tried their hands at saving everyone, met their eventual end.”

 

I clasped my hands together and instinctually began shifting them slightly to ease the tension in my body. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret not doing anything. I could have made a real difference, and although I didn’t care for many of my classmates at the time, I’ve learned to have a respect for them that isn’t all that surprising, given all we’ve been through together.” 

 

She scoffed. “And you still don’t have it in you to lead this bumbling group of idiots, huh?” 

 

“Well…” I trailed off, glancing over at the pod door and realizing that Byakuya was probably still struggling inside, but deciding that he could wait- After all, I actually enjoyed speaking to Syo… Not something I could probably say the same for him. “I would rather I wouldn’t: Maki is plenty capable. And besides… Actually having to lead people would take away time from… This.” I gestured out towards her. “Personality adjustment, shall we say- And you’ve already proven this is a worthwhile use of my time.”

 

She scoffed. “Don’t act like you’ve got me under your thumb, Ariel: all you’ve done is get me to care about the whiny bitch I’m chained to just a little more.”

 

I shrugged. “That’s enough of a win for me.” I tentatively raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly how I had gotten into teasing terms with Genocider Syo. “Are you just going to go through calling me every Disney Princess? I’m surprised you even know their names, but I hate to say it’s not terribly original, as insults go.”

 

“Unfortunately…” She began, annoyance seeping into her already rough voice. “I happen to know a lot of what Toko knows, and she’s practically obsessed with stuff like that.” She followed my eyes, laughing at the door. “You going to get him, or what?” A fiery blaze like magma settled into her eyes. “Now that I’m pretending to be her, the way he looks at her is just…” She shook her head. “Unacceptable. If I spend another second in a room with him, I’ll have his head.”

 

I grinned. “I’ll handle him, but you shouldn’t expect me to be much warmer. Although, I suppose _someone_ has to get him up to speed.”

 

“Yeah, whatever- I need to get back into character. You know- It’s not all that bad, pretending to be her. It’s just the sad and pitiful looks she gets that really annoys me, but it’s nice not being treated like a sentient knife every once and awhile.”

 

“I’m sure she won’t be very pleased that you took her identity for a spin.” I mused, as she turned and began strolling off. “See you at breakfast.”

 

She glanced back just long enough to roll her eyes. “I’d ask you to keep Toko from hating me, but I think that’s a given after I ruined her relationship with Byakuya.” She gave a small wave. “We’ll see if I hand over control before then.”

 

I watched her go- Analyzing the way she adapted her stance as she walked to be more similar to the hunched, cowering one Toko often had. She had almost passed the corner when I remembered one more thing.

 

“Syo.” I called out, and she glanced over her shoulder with an annoyed sneer, which quickly vanished after my next question. “Does Toko know how she… Feels about women yet?”

 

The new expression was a fair amount of anger and surprise, electric in the night. “Sonia, what are you-“ She began- But I could already see she was diverting my attention, and I had hit the nail on the head.

 

“I’m not stupid, Syo: I’d have thought you’d have realized that by now.” I began, choosing my words carefully as to not upset her. “I have… A lot of experience with people being attracted to me. It comes with the notoriety of my position.” I explained curtly, trying to keep my face straight despite the subject. “Both of you are attracted to me, and by extension, I assume women in general. I’d like you to answer truthfully whether or not she realizes this yet, or is rationalizing it- As people often do.”

 

I added an addendum as I saw her grow even more furious at that, butting in Before I ruined what little ground I had gained with her already.

 

“I’m aware this probably isn’t the best subject for me to talk about, and you have developed a newfound… Protective quality for Toko. But you yourself said that I have your best interests in mind, and it helps to know this.”

 

She seemed to contemplate for a moment whether to just storm off, before speaking. “At least you told me you knew.” She nearly spat, voice crackling. “You’ve reached a new level of prying birch, Elsa.” But it seemed I had made my case, as she stared down- Perhaps wondering if she would later regret saying this. “But for the record- Yeah. She’s clueless. It never occurred to her that it was even an option.” Syo could have burned holes into the ground, for how hard she stared into it. “I don’t think she needs even more shit on her plate right now.”

* * *

 

Unbelievable.

 

All of this is unbelievable. Who would have thought… Who would have thought that out of everyone, Toko would be so brash, so… Uncouth. I knew she was a scoundrel, a dullard, but… To disrespect me…

 

I felt trapped. I felt vulnerable: these were feelings I shouldn’t feel, feelings I hadn’t felt since…

 

No. It’s not worth thinking about that, Byakuya; you’re a Togami, you can’t let these things affect you. No, you’re not a Togami… You’re _The_ Togami. The only Togami. I bested every one of my half-breed brothers and sisters, I climbed a mountain of strife- I made our empire even stronger! I….

 

I was above all this. And yet, I was stuck in a pod. For what seemed like ages. Let to sit and stew in my vile contempt for the audacity of Toko… And whomever else 's voice I could hear just faintly, for not coming to help!

 

Eventually, the muffled voices, faint like sheets ruffling, dissipated. I heard a door slide open and the clicking of heels against tile.

 

And then Sonia Nevermind peeked her head around the corner.

 

I had met the fair lady a few times in my international ventures: since we were both young heirs, we were sometimes stuck together. She always seemed curt, formal… Never willing to speak with me over anything but the most basic of small talk. It was quite infuriating, really- There was so much more decisive and interesting subjects both of our trained minds could cover.

 

But in this moment, she was very much different from when I had glimpsed her, many years ago. She always wore the traditional dresses of her country when I saw her, yet she was now wearing a modern ensemble, dark and sleek- That made her look, I had to admit- Stunning. She seemed more casual, more ready to speak freely and personally- And actually let more emotions than polite happiness cross her face. I saw a very present annoyance (She must have crossed Toko in the hall) As well as an undertone of very pleased happiness. She glanced over me with a scrutiny that was ice cold, like the heart of a glacier- And I cursed at the injustice of meeting her again in such a vulnerable position.

 

“Sonia Nevermind?” I raised an eyebrow, doing my best to appear comfortable and in control, while being very much the opposite. 

 

She let the silence draw out a few moments too long, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes to an almost laserlike stare, before offering out her hand in the most dissatisfied and annoyed manner possible. “Byakuya Togami.” To my Chagrin, she muttered out my name in the most emotionless drawl she could, sounding thoroughly bored.

 

I took her hand, grunting both at the hitch in my side and how her fingernails slightly dug into my forearms. I did my best to continue the conversation politely… Despite the fact that her abrasive mood was beginning to wear on me. “I hadn’t expected meeting royalty so soon… You survived the tragedy?” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were capable, but from what I understand of the matter it was more so a question of sheer chance.”

 

She continued her blank, and somewhat sardonic stare. “About that…” 

 

She explained the situation quickly, hardly giving me time to ask questions- And by this point, her offputting aura was seriously beginning to irritate me, no matter how much I wanted to keep good terms with her- Especially knowing the troubling situation we were in.

 

“Sonia.” I began, catching her unamused stare. “If I may ask, why are you so… Prickly, for lack of a better word, at the current moment?”

 

“Because I don’t want to talk to you.” She said like it was exceedingly obvious, her straight face not so much as twitching as mine grew red and exasperated. “Quite frankly….” She looked over me, lip turning up slightly. “I would rather have a discussion with anyone in this building rather than you; there’s a reason I kept our talks at minimum before, and that’s because I loathe you, and what you stand for: you are the very definition of a corrupt ruler.” She sighed, turning and breaking eye contact- Only rubbing salt in the wound.

 

“Narcissistic.” She began, completely ignoring me as I attempted to say something, anything. “Bloated ego. Lack of care for those under him.” She glanced over me, a disappointed look staining her face. 

 

“Do you think we’re similar? Because we aren’t. What makes a ruler is someone willing to care for their subjects, and this applies to anyone- Whether a queen or a CEO. You are a tyrant- The very antithesis of the values my family is taught.” She rolled up her sleeve, offering out her wrist- Pointing at the very visible veins. “We are taught our blood means nothing, just an old tradition- Yet you parade yours around like you want to lather yourself in it. No matter what you went through, no matter what trials you succeeded at to become the true Togami- It doesn’t make you any better than anyone else here.”

 

She glared at me. “Remember that: Especially now, when everyone is already on edge. I promised I will keep the peace-“ she turned her back on me, beginning to walk away. “-And I won’t have you, of all people, ruining that.”

  


* * *

 

I stood in front of the mirror. Sighed and grimaced, knowing exactly how much shit Toko was going to give me- Just after we had gotten into decent terms.

 

But hey, I was doing it for her sake- And with any luck, she’ll get it through her thick skull that despite what she may think- Having someone who constantly puts you down is bad for you. Wow, who knew.

 

And, just maybe… She’ll try actually going after a chick for once. Because after all… She didn’t really have the best track record for guys.

 

Unless you count dead bodies as wins, anyways.

 

I sighed and shook my head as I called her out, staring into my reflection and marveling at the fact that we could finally talk face to face- The benefits of being crazy, I guess. 

 

The difference between myself and my reflection was sudden, severe, and instantly recognizable- The frantic, doe eyes, the queasy limbs and hunched posture… I knew enough about it to recreate it, at least.

 

“Syo?” She called out, clearly frightened yet trying to hide it- Well, at least she was trying to be amicable towards me, for once. Shame I’m going to ruin it all in a few seconds.

 

I bit my lip, and she noticed- “...Syo. W-why did you call me?”

 

I stared off to the side, wanting her not to see the way my face twisted with guilt- Before realizing it didn’t matter much anyways. “You’re going to hate me.” I started, and her eyes widened. “But I’m keeping my promise. You won’t be talking to Byakuya anymore.”

 

“W-What?” She was frantic, now… I grinded my teeth together, both angry at seeing her so distraught, and at seeing my face- Her face- like that.

 

“He hates you now. “ I said simply, doing my best to keep emotion out of my voice. “I made him think you grew a spine: he thinks you are tired of him being a cuck.”

 

She was crying now, and our shared consciousness made the tears start to dribble slightly out of my eyes, too: even if I hated it.

 

“SYO!” She screamed, and I was suddenly very glad I was the only one who could hear that ear-splitting yell. The illusory reflection in the mirror kneeled down, her phantom tears staining her skirt. “You… You promised you’d help me…”

 

I swallowed my spit, staring off into the distance.

 

“I did. And that’s why I’m doing this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toko is the big gay.
> 
> Wanted to develop Syo and Toko’s Relationship! Sonia wants to play the big mastermind, except... Well, more of a reverse mastermind, since her goal is to get everyone to not kill one another. Last chapter, she managed to convince Syo that helping Toko is probably in her best interest, and now that she’s making an effort... Well, I think some repressed feelings are maybe making their way to the surface.
> 
> As you can probably tell, I’m not a fan of the Toko and Byakuya relationship- Which is why I cut it off right here, while still making it make the most sense I could. I’m doing my best to want to write for Byakuya, but... It’s hard guys, it’s really hard.


End file.
